


Blood and Venom - Book 3: Shattered Reality

by woodmr13



Series: Blood and Venom [3]
Category: Slender (Video Game), Slender Man Mythos, Slender: The Arrival, Slender: The Eight Pages
Genre: Gen, Horror, Mystery, Supernatural Elements, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2020-08-20 14:10:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 61,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20229145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woodmr13/pseuds/woodmr13
Summary: Eight years ago, a young woman faced unimaginable evil for the sake of her family and only narrowly survived. Now, that evil has finally returned to put everything she holds dear in jeopardy. Meanwhile, her childhood friend Lauren makes her way to Oakside for a long overdue visit, blissfully unaware of the looming shadows. -Based on Slender The Arrival and the Slenderverse Mythos.





	1. Days Gone By

_ So often are we guided by our devotion, our love, our affection…  _

_ A bond that pulls us down paths not bargained. _

_ And when you find yourself alone as HE casts out that bedeviling gale…  _

** _How far will it carry you?_ **

* * *

It was early in the morning when the shrill cry of an alarm clock woke Lauren Jones from her slumber. The twenty-six-year-old woman sleepily fumbled with the alarm, successfully putting an end to its annoying racket and yawning as she sat up in bed. Blinking the sleep out of her eyes, she turned to look at the bedroom window and saw raindrops running down the glass. The sky was dark and gloomy, a light rain drizzled down from the overcast clouds, and every now and then the rumble of distant thunder could be heard. Despite the bad weather and early hour, the city of Providence, Rhode Island, was wide awake. The lights of the city shimmered through the early morning darkness and the sounds of its population echoed in the streets below. Lauren might have grown up in a small, rural town, but she’d quickly come to view the big city as her home. She got out of bed and made her way to the bathroom, brushing her teeth and taking a quick shower before throwing on a pair of black pants and a gray v-neck, as well as a black necklace. While drowsily brushing her black, neck-length hair, she glanced up at her reflection in the bathroom mirror: She had an athletic build, and her skin still retained most of the tan she’d gotten over the summer, contrasting slightly with her deep blue eyes. As she went through her morning routine, she glanced at a picture on the windowsill of herself with her two oldest friends; Katelyn Milens and Carl Ross.

The three had been the best of friends since childhood, having grown up together in the town of Crystal Falls, Michigan. Kate was like a little sister to Lauren, and Carl may as well have been her older brother. They’d been inseparable until around Carl’s sixteenth birthday when his family moved to the town of Oakside, a quiet little village near the Rocky Mountains in Alberta. Neither of the girls heard much from him for the next couple of years, but then he abruptly came back into their lives with a strange tale of an investigation gone wrong. As his story went, shortly after moving to Oakside, he’d taken an interest in the case of Charles Matheson, a local man whose son went missing under mysterious circumstances in the late ‘90s. He’d done a lot of digging into Charlie’s disappearance, as well as the history of the town itself, intending to uproot the truth about the missing boy. However, when Carl’s research led him to an old plot of land owned by the Matheson family, he uncovered something far worse than he ever could’ve imagined. Lauren had no way of knowing what he’d actually gone through at that farm, as it wasn’t something he wanted to talk about. As far as she knew, the only people who knew the full story were Carl himself and his doctors, but she had a hunch that Kate knew more about it than she let on. 

Her theory had some evidence to back it up, beginning with the fact that Kate was in a very similar situation. Up until the summer of 2009, Kate had been living a relatively normal life in Crystal Falls. It wasn’t an easy life by any means, as her mother was bedridden with a mysterious illness and her two best friends had either moved out of the country or gone away to college, but it was normal in every other sense of the word. Then, one night she ventured into the abandoned RiverView Park, an enigmatic campground buried deep in the woods behind her house, and something terrible had taken place. Much like Carl, Kate refused to talk about what she’d gone through that night, but her experience ended up having a profound effect on her. She struggled with severe PTSD for several years, always claiming to see something watching her from the shadows or waking up screaming in the middle of the night. Even when her PTSD was more or less under control, she had near-constant anxiety and paranoia to deal with, and the medication she’d been prescribed could only do so much to help. Then, things took an even worse turn when her mother, Beth Hayes, passed away only a few months later. Since she was still a minor at the time, she had no choice but to go live with her aunt and uncle in Idaho. They were nice people, but Kate felt entirely out of place while she was living with them. This was mainly due to the fact that her father, John Milens, had died when she was very young, and she and her mother hadn’t had much contact with his side of the family afterward. It was for that reason that when she finally turned eighteen, she followed in Carl’s footsteps and moved to Oakside, hoping that her friend would be able to help her cope with her problems.

A lot of time had passed since those days in high school when Lauren would run track with Kate or watch scary movies with Carl, and she blamed herself for the distance that had grown between them over the years. College had kept her pretty busy back then, and prioritizing her Real Estate degree while her friends were struggling was something she regretted every day. She would’ve given anything to go back and do things differently, but since she wasn’t exactly a time traveler, all she could do was try to make amends for her mistakes. Lauren’s interactions with the two of them may have been limited to messages and occasional phone calls for a couple of years, but she’d gotten back in contact with Kate a few months ago, and despite her childhood friend’s initial hesitation, the two women had been rekindling their friendship ever since. They talked on the phone almost every day now, and since it’d been a couple of years since they’d seen one another, Lauren was planning to visit Oakside soon. However, while simply wanting to see each other again was the main reason for the visit, another factor was that she was helping Kate sell her house. A while back, Kate had told her that, while she still liked the house, its seclusion was starting to damage her mental health after five years of living there.

Knowing how long it had taken for Kate to recover from her trauma, and not wanting her friend to go through more complications, Lauren immediately offered to help out. Soon enough, her firm had approved the arrangement and she was working as Kate’s realtor. A couple of months passed before anyone took an interest in the house, and when that call eventually did come in, it was from a surprising source. The woman in question had known that she wanted to buy the home before Kate even gave her a tour of it, and within a matter of days, the house was sold. Kate was currently in the process of packing her things and getting moved in somewhere closer to civilization, which Lauren intended to help her with when she got to Oakside. All in all, things were going pretty well for her; She’d reconnected with her childhood best friend, her little sister, Gwen, had just graduated high school and was planning to stay with her while attending a college in Providence, and she worked for a great company doing a job that she loved. There was just one thing that was bothering her; When she and Kate finally got back in touch with one another, Carl had seemed less than enthused, as if he didn’t approve of Lauren coming back into their lives. He seemed more distant than ever before, cold even, and she had no idea why. She couldn’t really blame him for holding a grudge against her, but it broke her heart that her old friend was acting like this, especially when she was doing her best to make things right.

After finally winning the battle with her hair, Lauren made her way into the kitchen to get some breakfast. While her coffee brewed, she put some toast down and turned on the news before opening the briefcase she’d left sitting on the kitchen table. Her apartment wasn’t a very big place, and truth be told, she probably could’ve afforded something a little more extravagant, but she liked living there. It consisted of a single bedroom, a bathroom, and a kitchen and living room that were adjacent to one another. There were a couple of closets as well, but other commodities such as a washing machine and dryer could only be found at the laundromat across the street. It was far from luxurious, but rent was cheap, the building was clean, and living on an upper floor gave her a great view of the city. The landlord was a kind woman, and most of her neighbors were pleasant people as well, so she was more than content with what she had. With her food done cooking and her coffee finished brewing, Lauren sat down to breakfast and sifted through the contents of the briefcase, looking for one folder in particular. Though she already worked as a realtor, a friend of hers had recently convinced her to come work at a small but reputable private investigation firm as a side job. Having minored in Criminalistics, Lauren eventually agreed that she could use a little more excitement in her life, and now she and Lily Greene were friends  _ and _ coworkers.

She finally located the folder she’d been looking for after a few moments of searching; It was brand new and tan in color, and the word  _ Oakside _ was written in black sharpie on the front cover. That town had an ugly history, and the unsolved mysteries surrounding it made her wonder why her friends had ever moved there. It all began back in the early 1900s; One day, as if someone had flipped a switch, people started going missing at an alarming rate. Hardly any of them were ever seen again, and the few who did turn up were found in a pretty bad state. Their mangled corpses were hardly recognizable, leading many to believe that the disappearances were the result of animal attacks, but no animal would’ve mutilated a body so badly without eating any of it. Due to a lack of evidence, the residents of Oakside had come up with countless theories over the years, many of which were downright absurd. Oakside was a rather superstitious town, but Lauren didn’t believe in ghost stories, and she had a few of her own ideas about what could’ve happened back then… and why it was happening again. The reports of missing Oakside residents had never truly stopped coming in, but the nature of the disappearances, as well as their frequency, eventually calmed down enough for them to be considered normal, leading many to believe that those dark times were a thing of the past. However, the thing about history is that it tends to repeat itself, and the recent resurgence was what put the town on the team’s radar. As for the file itself, it contained little more than a few tattered documents, some old pictures, and a note from Russell Parker, the man in charge of the small firm. Lauren absentmindedly nibbled on a piece of toast as she read the memo for the third time;

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

_ Lauren, _

_ Mark brought this case to my attention a few days ago, _

_ and we decided to let you have a crack at it.  _

_ From what we’ve seen, you seem resourceful enough _

_ to handle it, so I figured it would be a good assignment for you. _

_ We’re all looking forward to seeing what you bring to the table, _

_ but don’t feel bad if this old thing is too much for you. _

_ There’s no shame in asking for help if you need it. _

_ ~Russ _

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lauren couldn’t help but smirk at that last statement. She hadn’t yet told her coworkers that two of her oldest friends lived in Oakside, nor had she told them that she was planning to visit the town soon. She’d worked a few odd jobs for them so far, but this Oakside case was her first real assignment and she wanted to impress the team, so having that card up her sleeve made her pretty proud of herself. Not only would she be going to visit her childhood friend in a week and helping her move out of her house, but she’d also be doing some hands-on investigating, effectively killing three birds with one stone. She’d already told Kate about the investigation, and she was going to surprise her team with the news when she got to work. After finishing her breakfast, she turned the TV off and packed up her things, throwing on her white jacket and brown boots and leaving the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her. She took the elevator down to the lobby and walked outside into the brisk autumn air, making her way toward a silver Volvo XC40 in the parking lot. It wasn’t a very long drive to the building that her team was renting office space in, and as she pulled into the parking lot, she saw that light was shining through the pale structure’s second-story windows. The brick building wasn’t much bigger than her real estate firm and looked twice as average, with the only real differences being the gray color and multiple stories. It was as she was parking her car that she noticed the brown van a few spaces away, and knowing who it belonged to, smirked to herself as she headed toward the building. While making her way up a short flight of stairs at the front door, she saw a familiar face leaning against the porch railing. Mark O’Donnell, the man who’d brought the Oakside case to Russell’s attention in the first place, turned to glance at her as she walked up the steps, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other.

“Morning, Lauren,” he greeted in a tired voice.

“Morning,” Lauren responded. Mark was a pale, skinny man with a bony face and short, slicked back, jet black hair. He had a thin beard and light blue eyes, and he wore a simple combination of black jeans and a navy blue shirt. “You coming in?” she asked as she opened the door.

“I’ll be there in a minute. Go on ahead, Russ and Cole are up there already… and so is your boyfriend,” he said with a smirk, trying to get a rise out of her. Lauren rolled her eyes and entered the building without another word, deciding that his comment wasn’t worth a reaction. She rode the elevator up to the second floor and made her way to the office, which looked about the same as any other workplace, with the exception of its smaller size. Her team did most of their individual work from home, so they only met up about two or three times a week to make sure everybody was on the same page. As a result, their office was more or less a glorified meeting room, featuring a couple of filing cabinets, a few desks and tables, some computers, and a small variety of other equipment. It wasn’t much, but it suited their needs well enough so nobody had any real problems with it. It was as she was setting her briefcase down on an open desk that she heard a familiar voice call out to her;

“What’s up, Pinkerton? You manage to track down the Van der Lindes yet?”  _ Pinkerton _ , he’d been calling her that ever since she got this new job. Lauren refused to admit that she actually found it funny, but the look of amusement spreading across her face said it all. She looked up from the desk to see Aaron Carter approaching her with an envelope in his hand and a smirk on his face. He was a couple of years younger than she was, but still a few inches taller, and he had a sturdy, muscular build, as well as a semi-tan complexion. His dark brown hair came down just past his ears, and his forest green eyes looked surprisingly lively for how early in the morning it was. His facial hair was little more than a trimmed stubble, and his clothing consisted of dark blue jeans, worn brown shoes, and a faded black leather jacket that he’d been wearing around for years. Lauren had met him through their mutual friend Lily Greene several years ago, and since then, they’d formed a bond as thick as blood. It was why Lauren got so annoyed when Mark, or anyone else for that matter, teased her about the idea of her and Aaron being together. They were practically brother and sister, so she found the idea of dating him to be rather weird, and she knew he felt the same way about it because he’d outright told her on several occasions.

“I don’t know who those people are, Aaron,” Lauren responded.

“You really need to read some of Jack Marston’s work. He is such a badass author,” Aaron said, still grinning. 

“I’ve been meaning to, I just haven’t had much time to myself lately. Having two jobs takes a lot out of you,” Lauren sighed, sitting down on top of her desk.

“Yeah, I know the feeling. Construction’s really been kicking my ass lately, so I’ve been working fewer jobs for Russ to make up for it. Just dealt with that thing down in Roanoke for him, actually. That’s why I’m here, came in to pick up my pay,” he said, holding up the envelope in his hand. “I figured I’d stick around to say hi when you got here.”

“I’m glad you did, I was hoping I’d run into you,” Lauren said with a smile. “I saw your van parked outside.”

“I can’t believe that old thing is still kicking,” Aaron commented. “So, what’s going on with you? How’s the whole Oakside investigation coming along?”

“Pretty good, actually,” Lauren said, lowering her voice. “I haven’t told anybody else about the trip I’m planning yet. I was hoping to surprise them with it today.”

“Nice! I’m sure Russ will appreciate an employee willing to get her hands dirty. It’ll be a nice change of pace from the rest of these pencil pushers,” Aaron said. “Just make sure you know what you’re doing. I know you’re careful, but… with things like these, anything can happen.”

“Careful is my middle name, Aaron. You should know this by now,” Lauren joked.

“Yeah, I know,” he said with a chuckle. “By the way, you seemed a little pissed off when you came in here earlier. Is everything alright?”

“What? Oh, yeah, that was nothing. Mark just seems to think the idea of us dating is comedy gold. That joke gets really old after you hear it enough times,” Lauren responded, rubbing her temples.

“Yeah… don’t worry about him. He’s just pissed that he hasn’t been laid since 2010,” Aaron said, making her laugh.

“It’d be less annoying if I knew these people better. I’ve only been here for a couple weeks, so you and Lily are still the only ones I know all that well,” Lauren said.

“And all I really do is go where Russ sends me, so that leaves you with just Lily…” Aaron muttered. “I’ll say something to Mark on the way out. He can be a pain in the ass sometimes, but I don’t doubt that he means well. Just relax, Lauren, you’ll settle in here soon enough, and then it’s smooth sailing from there,” he said with a smile. “Oh, speaking of Lily, apparently she called in sick today. Seems like Luke even stayed home from work to take care of her.”

“Great, and on their anniversary too…” Lauren said with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

“Well, between you and me,” Aaron said in a hushed voice, “I don’t think she’s actually sick.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Lauren commented as they both chuckled.

“Anyway, I’d better get going,” Aaron said after a few moments of silence. “My real job starts soon, and picking up work from Russ twice a month doesn’t exactly pay the bills.”

“Alright, I’ll see you later then,” Lauren said, standing back up as her friend began to leave.

“Hey, you’re still coming to Gavin’s bonfire on Friday, right?” Aaron said, turning back around to face her.

“Of course, it’s been ages since we got everyone together,” Lauren responded.

“Awesome. I’ll see you there,” Aaron said.

“Bye,” Lauren said as he left the office. She turned back to her briefcase and started unpacking the supplies she’d need for the day, and it wasn’t long before more of her coworkers started trickling through the door. Aside from Lily, she only interacted with a few of the people she worked with, mainly Russell, Cole, and Mark. As for the others, she was barely on a first-name basis with them, but she was sure that would change as time went on. Soon enough, Russell was calling everyone into the meeting room to discuss their assignments, and as the minutes ticked on, Lauren started feeling a little nervous. She didn’t necessarily have a problem with public speaking, but being surrounded by people she barely knew made her a little more jittery than usual, even if she knew what she was doing. Then, at long last, the moment of truth came;

“So, Lauren, have you managed to make any progress with the Oakside case?” Russell asked. He was a clean-shaven man a few years older than her with an average build, a fair skin tone, and short light brown hair. He wore a flannel shirt and dark blue jeans, and the questioning look in his hazel eyes didn’t do much to help her nerves. His step-brother, Cole Davis, leaned against a wall a few feet away from him with his arms crossed. He was significantly more muscular than Russell, as well as far more tan, and had a tattoo of a spider web on his right arm. His hair was short and black, his beard was carefully trimmed, and his eyes were nearly the same shade of blue as her own. He wore a black t-shirt as well as a pair of faded jeans, and he too was looking right at her. Cole helped Russell run their small business, and despite his more intimidating appearance, Lauren found it easier to talk to him than his older step-brother. Russell wasn’t an unkind person, far from it, actually, but Cole was definitely the more laid back of the two, while Russell tended to be rather business-oriented. That’s why when she looked to Cole and saw his nod of encouragement, the confidence she’d felt back in her apartment finally resurfaced.

“Actually, yeah, I think I might’ve found something,” she answered, getting everyone’s attention.

“Really? That fast?” Russell asked, surprised by her answer. “Well, okay then, let’s hear it.”

Without missing a beat, Lauren began her presentation; “Since you’re already familiar with Oakside and its history, I’ll just skip to the important parts,” she said, retrieving a few documents from the folder and passing them to Russell. “The first thing I noticed was the victim pattern. Children and young adults seem to disappear way more than anyone else, but a significant amount of people older than that have gone missing too. Whoever or whatever is doing this definitely prefers their victims to be on the younger side, but that’s only the beginning. Almost every victim was described as being  _ hostile _ or  _ on edge _ during the weeks or months that led up to their disappearance. They all showed signs of extreme insomnia, paranoia, and occasional aggression, and some of them were even driven insane before they were taken, which leads me to believe that they were being stalked by something. This is clearly the work of a person, or people, based on the descriptions of the few bodies they did find. An animal killing and eating someone is one thing, but they don’t usually mutilate bodies and impale them on tree branches,” she said, shocking the majority of her coworkers with that last detail.

“You’re definitely right about the source being human. I think we can all agree on that,” Russell pondered, looking through the documents she’d handed him. “The question is, do you have any idea who might be responsible?”

“Not exactly, but I do have a couple of theories,” Lauren said, continuing where she left off. “Right off the bat, this case reminded me of the Bloody Benders, that family who killed a bunch of people in Labette County back in the 1870s. Now, I’m not saying that  _ they’re _ the ones behind this, but there’s a definite possibility that something similar is going on here. It was a lot easier to escape the law back then, so there’s a good chance that this is the same story, just with a different family of lunatics who were a lot better at staying hidden. It would explain why the murders suddenly stopped when they did; the authorities would’ve been closing in on them so they would’ve had to go into hiding. That could be why people kept going missing every now and then after the original spree ended; They were picking people off from the shadows, keeping up the family tradition in secret while they waited for a good time to make a comeback. But, as interesting of an idea as it is, there’s no proof that it went down like that. My second theory is that there’s a copycat killer behind the more recent disappearances, and all of the people who vanished between the two killing sprees had nothing to do with either of them, which at this point is just as likely as the first theory. Or, both of them are wrong and it’s something else entirely. There’s even a chance that this could be related to the Matheson Farmstead, which is an old property that the locals are terrified of. Whatever happened there happened in 1905, which was when this whole thing was at its worst, but there’s no way of telling if it’s related or not because the details of  _ that _ incident were never made public knowledge. Now, all of that is just speculation, but I did manage to pinpoint something that isn’t,” she said, taking a breath before continuing. “I found something that the authorities overlooked, or didn’t see any significance in, at least. The only locations of interest during the investigation were certain patches of forest and mountain trails because that’s where most of the victims would go missing. The interesting part is that when they found the few bodies that did turn back up, they found every single one of them in the same place; Oakside Park. People were vanishing left and right further out in the country, and I think that’s why they overlooked what happened with the place. The authorities were so focused on investigating where people were going missing that they never bothered looking into where the bodies were found, beyond the initial recovery.”

“What is Oakside Park, exactly?” Cole asked from the other side of the room.

“It’s a national park owned by the Albertan government. Back when this was all going on, it wasn’t much more than a stretch of land where people would go hunting, but then in 1972, the city was given permission to turn a bunch of it into a campground, kind of like Yellowstone. The campground itself was operational up until 2008 when the city couldn’t afford to maintain it anymore and had to close the place down, and it’s been abandoned ever since. Here’s the thing though; they started talking about rebuilding the place recently, and right around the time those talks started, so did the new batch of disappearances,” Lauren answered.

“So you’re saying there’s a connection,” Russell said, looking up from the notes she’d handed him.

“Absolutely. There’s no doubt in my mind that Oakside Park is connected to everything. I just need to figure out why,” she responded. “I still have a lot of work to do, but I know a lot more now than I did a few days ago.”

Her coworkers were thoroughly impressed, and a few moments of silence passed while Russell sifted through the papers she’d handed him, gazing at them intently. “I noticed that you wrote a few things down about this local business… Kullman Mining. What’s that about?” he asked.

“Oh yeah, as far as I can tell, the mines aren’t related to the case,” Lauren explained. “It just so happens that Kullman had a huge impact on Oakside, and a lot of people lost their jobs when they went bankrupt a few years ago. I only wrote it down because, back in the summer of ‘85, they made a deal with Oakside Park Management that gave them mineral rights to one of the park’s mountains. It’s probably not important, but I don’t want to leave any stones unturned.”

A few more moments of silence passed before Russell organized the papers and handed them back to Lauren. “This is impressive, Lauren,” he said as a smile spread across his face. “This is  _ very _ impressive. It’s only Monday and that’s probably the best news I’ll hear all week.”

“That’s not all,” Lauren said, beaming as she put the papers back in her folder. “What if I told you that I have some friends who live in Oakside and that I’m planning on visiting them next week? I’m going to be helping my friend move out of her house, but I’ll have plenty of time to look into the case while I’m there.”

The expression on Russell’s face changed to one of surprise, and as Lauren caught a glimpse of Cole grinning at her from across the room, she heard her boss speak up again. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day that a new hire came in here and showed us all up,” Russell said with a laugh. “I knew I made the right choice hiring you. Amazing work, Lauren!”

“Thanks, Russ,” Lauren said, feeling more proud of herself now than she had in a long time.

“Alright then, now that we really have this show on the road, who’s next? Mark, what about you? Have you found anything out about that cult activity in New Jersey yet?” Russell asked.

“The ritual murder from a few weeks ago? No, not yet, but I’m getting close. I actually have to head out though. I have a doctor’s appointment to go to, remember? It’s the one I told you about yesterday,” Mark said, standing up from his chair.

“No problem, just keep me updated on the investigation,” Russell said.

“Sure thing, boss,” Mark said as he left the room.

“Cole, you said you were making progress with that Blackwood Mountain case from a couple of years ago, right?” Russell said, turning to his step-brother.

“Some, but not much. I was up until dawn looking into it last night and didn’t find anything other than what we already know, but I’ll get there eventually. I always do,” Cole responded. As Russell continued talking to his employees, Lauren found herself tuning our their conversations. She was busy thinking about Oakside, about how the mystery was unraveling faster than she ever could’ve hoped, and about how she was going to see her oldest friends again after so many years of separation. She still wasn’t entirely sure where this path was going to lead her, but she had high hopes that it would be somewhere great.

**(X)**

It was several hours after the meeting concluded when everyone said their goodbyes. Lauren had her things packed and was leaving the building when she heard the front door open behind her. “Hey Lauren, hold on a second,” Russell called out.

“What’s up?” she asked, standing halfway down the stairs and looking back at Russell.

“Hey, before I tell you this, I want you to know that I really am proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’ve done some great work during the time you’ve been with us,” Russell began. “I didn’t say this back at the meeting because I didn’t want to embarrass you by having everyone hear it, but I don’t want you going anywhere near Oakside Park… or the Matheson Farm, for that matter. I think you’re right about both of those places being hotspots, and Lauren, this case is different from the other ones you’ve seen us handle. Something really bad is going on in that town, and I don’t want you in the line of fire.”

“Are… are you sure? My friend lives really close to the park so I wouldn’t exactly be going out of my way to-” Lauren started to say.

“Positive,” Russell interrupted, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Lauren, please understand that I’m not trying to undermine your work here. I’m trying to protect you from whatever it is that’s doing this. Please just do as I ask and avoid those two places like the plague, okay? If you want to go literally anywhere else, then go for it, but not there.”

“Of course… Sure thing, Russell,” Lauren said, a little scared but even more disappointed. She hadn’t even considered going to the Matheson Farm thanks to what the place had done to Carl, but now she kind of wanted to.

“Thank you, and I’ll tell you what,” he said, trying to cheer her up. “You dig up some more information and bring it back to us, and if we have enough to go off of, we’ll give Aaron a call and the three of us will go to Oakside together and finish this thing. I can get Cole to come along too if we need some extra help. Sound good?”

“Sounds good to me, as long as I don’t have to split my paycheck with the rest of you,” she joked.

“Don’t worry, those two won’t get a penny of it,” Russell laughed. “Anyway, feel free to take a couple days off. You’ve done some really good work recently, so I think you’ve earned a break. You’ll have plenty of time to research Oakside when you get there.”

“I might take you up on that offer,” Lauren said, already feeling fatigue setting in.

“Go for it,” Russell said, beginning to head back inside. “See you around, Lauren.”

“See you Friday,” she said before making her way back to her car. The rain was coming down much harder than it had been before and only grew more intense as she drove back to her apartment complex. Lauren parked her car and ran across the parking lot, eager to escape the downpour. She got inside and rode the elevator up to her floor, wanting nothing more than to get out of her wet clothes and curl up under a warm blanket, but things weren’t going to be that simple. When she entered her apartment she immediately felt uneasy; It was dark inside and an unusual chill was in the air, and she found out why when she flicked on the kitchen light. The window to the fire escape was wide open, letting rain and cold air into her apartment. Lauren froze in place, her heart beginning to pound as she realized that someone had broken in while she’d been at work. She hoped that they hadn’t taken anything valuable, and as she cautiously approached the open window, she noticed something sitting on her kitchen table. It was a sheet of printer paper with a few lines of text typed on it, and when she picked it up and read its message, she found herself wishing that something had been stolen instead.

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_ We have been watching you. _

_ Stay away from the town of Oakside. _

_ Turn your back on this job and let old mysteries die. _

_ If you proceed, you will not live to regret it. _

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lauren found it difficult to breathe as she read the note over and over. She felt lightheaded and unstable, grabbing hold of the back of a chair to keep herself upright. Someone was watching her, and whatever it was that was going on in Oakside, they didn’t want her knowing about it. They didn’t want her knowing so badly that they were threatening her life. Then, she had a sudden realization that made her blood run cold; they could still be in the apartment. “Oh shit, oh shit,” she whimpered, crumpling the note in her hand and running out the door, still clinging onto her briefcase. With fear in her eyes, she made her way down to the lobby and let the briefcase fall to the ground as she took her cell phone out of her pocket, trying not to hyperventilate. 

“Lauren, what’s wrong?” a worried voice asked. Lauren looked to the right and saw Debbie, the building’s elderly receptionist, sitting behind the front desk. The plump woman’s curly hair was snowy white, and a pair of rectangular glasses sat in front of her concerned brown eyes. 

“Someone just broke into my apartment,” Lauren stuttered.

“What?” Debbie said in surprise.

“Someone broke into my apartment through the fire escape,” Lauren repeated.

“Hold on dear, I’ll call the police,” Debbie said as she reached for the landline. “Why don’t you take a seat and try to calm yourself down.”

  
“Thanks, Debbie,” she said, sitting down on one of the lobby’s cushioned benches. As Debbie was talking to the police, Lauren found herself tapping her foot against the ground, still staring at the crumpled up note she held in her fist. She’d never experienced anything like this before, and an entirely new kind of fear was coursing through her quivering body. Suddenly, the phone she was still holding began to ring, making her yelp in surprise. As she held it up to see who was calling, she felt a sense of comfort when she read the name on the screen;  _ Kate Milens _ .


	2. Down the Rabbit Hole

**ATTENTION!**

**ONGOING REVISIONS ARE IN PROGRESS BEYOND THIS POINT!**

**CONTENT ** **AND QUALITY ** **AHEAD MAY NOT LINE UP WITH PREVIOUS CHAPTERS/STORIES!**

* * *

"He-Hello?"

"Lauren! Hey, it's me, Kate!"

"Hey, Kate. How've you been?"

"I've been alright. Hey, what's going on? You sound… uneasy."

"Well, just a few minutes before you called, I came home and found out that my apartment was broken into"

"Holy shit. Are you ok? Was anything stolen? Have you called the police?

"Yeah, I'm fine, and no, it doesn't look like anything was taken. But there was a really creepy letter left behind for me. I haven't called the police yet either. I was about to, but then the phone rang. Don't worry though, I'm safe. I already checked everywhere.

"Oh thank god. I can call you back some other time if…"

"No, it's alright. I seriously doubt that whoever it was could just magically teleport back in here. So, not that I don't enjoy talking with you, but why'd you call?"

"You're sure you're safe?"

"Yes, Kate, I'm fine."

"Alright then. I called because I need your help selling my house."

"What? Why? It's only been six years since you moved in."

"I know. It sucks that we wasted so much time and money on this place, but it's too secluded, Lauren."

"Wasn't the seclusion the reason you moved out there in the first place?"

"Yeah… it was. I was stupid to think that would help. It's only made things worse. I'm going to move into town so I can be closer to everything, including my doctor. It's a pain in the ass to have to drive so far to get my pills. Also, Carl lives in town, so we'll be able to see each-other more often."

"Well, alright then. I'll help. Just out of curiosity though, why call me when I live so far away instead of getting a realtor from Oakside?"

"I did find a realtor from Oakside. Most of the work is done. There's already a buyer and we've been trying to finalize the deal. The problem is, my realtor's office burned down a couple days ago. She can't help me finalize the deal now and I've been trying to contact someone else ever since. I didn't want to bother you, but since you're the only person I know who's familiar with real estate…"

"It's no trouble, really. It'll be a little while until I can head up to Oakside, so I'll try to help from here."

"Thanks, Lauren, and don't worry. I didn't expect you to be able to come up until next week anyway. You have your job, and now this break-in… You said the person who did it left you a letter?"

"Yeah, and it's creepy as hell. I haven't told you this yet, but my team recently picked up a case about Oakside and its strange history."

"Oh, really? Have you made any progress?"

"Quite a bit, actually. That's the thing. Whoever left this letter knows about the case… knows that I've been working on it. They've been watching us, Kate, and they're trying to stop me from solving the mystery."

"Christ… Wait, was there a signature or anything?"

"Yes, actually. The letter 'F' is signed at the bottom of the note."

"Firebrand…" Kate muttered.

"What?" Lauren asked, extremely confused.

"Oh, nothing. Were there any symbols on it? Anything else you could identify the culprit with?"

"Yeah. There's a really weird one on the envelope. It's two intersecting eyes… kind of reminds me of a cross."

"Oh god, I know that symbol."

"Really? What the hell is it?"

"I… I'm not sure what it means, but it's pretty well known around here. It's been found at the homes of people who've gone missing."

"Wait, so you're telling me…"

"Hold on… there's something else. I think I remember seeing it at Riverview too."

"My god… Kate, do you think the Riverview mystery and the Oakside case are connected somehow?"

"There's a good chance that they are. You know what… maybe you shouldn't come up to Oakside… maybe you should just abandon this case."

"Nonsense, Kate, I'm not about to let some thug push me around like that. It's bad enough that my apartment was broken into…"

"You don't understand…"

"Kate, I'm not changing my mind. This case is too important to just let go, and I was intending on going to Oakside sometime soon anyway. I'm going to do an investigation and see if I can turn anything up. I'd love it if you and Carl could help me."

"I seriously doubt that Carl would be up for another investigation after that farm incident, but I'll tell you what… Arguing with you clearly won't accomplish anything, so I'll help you. I have past experience with this sort of thing, so I might be able to keep you out of trouble. But first, I need your help selling this house. I don't want to live in this place any longer than I have to."

"Alright then, sounds like a plan. I'll contact you sometime soon about the house. In the meantime, I'm going to call the police. I'll see if I can stay at Lily's place until they finish their investigation."

"Well, I'll let you get to it then. See you later."

"Bye."

Lauren hung the phone up and sighed. This was a revelation that she hadn't been expecting. Perhaps she could look into Riverview as well, but there wasn't much that would come from doing so. Riverview was a dead end… Her team had known that for years. Kate wasn't willing to divulge any information about the place, and it had been quiet since 2009. Lauren rubbed her temples as a headache began. "There'll be time to think about this stuff later," she thought, dialing 911…

**(X)**

Several days later, Lauren sat in the living room of the Greene household, researching Oakside on her laptop. Luke and Lily had kindly allowed her to stay there while the investigation of her apartment was ongoing, and in the meantime, she was doing some investigating of her own. She had all the free time in the world now. Aiden had given her a few days off after the break-in, and Kate's house had finally been sold. Lauren was going to help her move out when she went up to investigate Oakside in a few days.

She'd managed to dig up quite a bit of information on the place. Some of it was old, and some was recent. All of it had been used to make a list of interesting tidbits. A fair portion was just trivia such as;

_Established in 1881 as a trading post along a Rocky Mountain trail, Oakside has since become a popular village for those looking for an escape from the noise and commotion of urban living._

_Prior to being incorporated as a village, a collection of settlements took root around the Oakside trading post. From there, entrepreneurs began their foray into the mountains in search of wealth._

_Kullman Mines, established in 1895, would eventually become the most successful enterprise in Oakside, providing employment to a large number of families within the community._

_While once a prominent hunting ground, Oakside Park now prides itself as a charming recreational area for families._

_While Oakside experiences little activity during the winter, the summer months bring a flurry of visitors seeking its beautiful trails and enticing festivals._

_With Oakside housing prices on the rise, many longtime residents are putting their homes up for sale in hopes of gaining a substantial profit and relocating closer to the foothills._

_During some of the hotter and drier days of summer, park officials will often enforce a fire ban, much to the displeasure of eager campers._

_Area mountaineers will often use their bright flashlights to stun and scare off invasive animals such as raccoons and coyotes from scavenging through their supplies at night._

_Following the closure of the mines, many families left Oakside. Only recently has the community bounced back through its successful marketing as a relaxing summer getaway._

That last point was further proven by an article from January 21st, 2010. It spoke of a potential future for Oakside, one that was shattered by the closing of the Kullman Mines;

**Residential Development Takes**

**Hold on Oakside Park Outskirts**

_Oakside is about to welcome some new residents. With all lots now purchased, home developments are set to begin this spring. Six new homes are expected to go up over the next year, with more to follow. The new homeowners will be the first new residents of the area since a fatal blaze 4 years ago that resulted in the death of one man. "We couldn't be happier to bring new life to the community." Said Robert Belvedere, Chairman of the Oakside Village Community Development Group. "We're pleased to welcome all the new families who want to call Oakside home."_

A picture of a half-completed house adorned the article. The residential development would've been successful if not for the closure of the mines. That's why the Oakside community has only recently bounced back, instead of doing so in 2010 like it should've. However, these pieces of information were far from the most interesting ones. Lauren had also managed to find a fair amount of dark, disturbing information that hinted at something sinister going on;

_Like many mountain towns, Oakside has maintained a long history of disappearances among its residences. Oddly though, very few remains have ever been recovered._

_As reports of missing surveyors and prospectors rapidly escalated in the spring of 1901, police mandated that all intended routes of travel must be given to police prior to departure._

_After an area hiker failed to report back in to park staff, rangers feared an undernourished bear may be roaming the park area. After several failed attempts, the bear was never tracked._

_Soon after Oakside opened its first campground, many residents reported a night prowler stalking their homes. The reports continued for years until coming to a quick and sudden end._

_As Oakside Park began to expand, campers reported children playing outside their tents at night. Though the children were never identified, complaints resulted in a strict campsite curfew._

_Night shift workers at the old Kullman Mines often reported hearing crying from deep inside the tunnels. Though many search parties were sent into the tunnels, no one was ever found._

_Prior to a tragic arson incident that stunned the community, many Oakside residents reported the purported victim of the blaze acting strange and withdrawn from his neighbors._

There was a somber article that went along with that last piece of information. It showcased a picture of an inferno overtaking a house, and was from June 3rd, 2005;

**Fatal Blaze Erupts at**

**Oakside Home, Arson Suspected**

_Oakside fire crews say a blaze at a South-East home, resulting in one death, may be the result of arson. Fire broke out at the home, located just East of Oakside Lake, at 11:30pm. Neighbors who knew the man living in the home, currently the only known fatality, as agitated and abrasive. "He lost his son many years ago. Since then he's never really acted the same. He would always claim to see his son standing outside his window, staring in." Said Kim Rolick, a neighbor who has known the man for twenty years. Authorities say Charles Matheson, 47, died of smoke inhalation. His body was found inside the basement of the home shortly after fire crews put out the blaze._

The Matheson Family Farm was the one that Carl had been traumatized at, and the family mentioned in the article were undoubtedly the ones who owned it. However, this was not the last piece of disturbing information that Lauren came across;

_While graffiti artists were once prominently vandalizing the park with erratic markings, incidents have taken a sharp drop- which park officials credit to a stern crackdown on park loitering._

This, in turn, led to another article… one that was far more disturbing than the other two. It was from November 1st, 2008;

**Halloween in Oakside**

_Residents of the Oakside area are reporting strange markings that seem to have mysteriously appeared overnight. Jack Bennett, an Oakside resident of 15 years, reports his experience from a late October evening:_

"_The fog was rolling in, and the moon peeked through the clouds, lighting the path. I was out for a late night walk in the woods. I could hear leaves crunching under someone's footsteps. I quickened my pace. I felt someone watching me. I saw someone- a dark figure in the corner of my eye. In my panic, I started sprinting back towards my house, but my toe caught a root and I fell to the ground. When I looked up, I noticed markings on a brick wall."_

_Further reports suggest that these markings may create a harrowing message. Authorities hope to locate all of them._

That was the final piece of information that Lauren was able to dig up. The article didn't say whether or not the authorities actually managed to find all of the markings. This new information was something, but it wasn't enough. Sighing in frustration, Lauren emailed everything she'd found to Aiden. This wasn't going to be an easy mystery to solve.

**(X)**

A week after the break-in, Lauren was finally ready to begin her trip to Oakside. She'd moved back into her apartment the day before, but unfortunately, the police hadn't been able to identify the culprit. They did, however, convince the landlord to have Lauren's locks changed. She had more pressing concerns than locks though. Just as she was finishing packing for the trip, she received a text message from Kate.

_ Kate _

_Hey, Lauren, I have a little favor to ask of you._

_Since you'll be bringing your camera for the investigation,_

_would you mind recording everything going on while you're here?_

_It's a therapy technique that my doctor has me trying._

_I record what's happening around me and watch the video later on._

_Seeing that there's nothing there really helps with the paranoia._

_ Lauren _

_Sure Kate, no problem._

_Whatever helps._

_ Kate _

_Thanks, I appreciate it._

_Oh, by the way, I told Carl you're coming up here._

_He'll be helping with the house too. He said he'll call you._

With that thought on her mind, Lauren began her long drive to Oakside. If she'd driven nonstop, it would've taken nearly two days to reach her destination. However, she found herself stopping at tourist attractions, restaurants, and hotels along the way, so it took slightly longer. It wasn't often that she got to go on a road trip, and she wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. On the third day, she decided to get fast food for lunch. As she ate outside, enjoying the crisp autumn air, she noticed a roadside billboard detailing a new boardwalk featured at a nearby recreational center. She couldn't help but smile, as it immediately made her think of Noah.

Lauren had met Noah Maxwell while she was attending college in Florida. The two shared a lot of similar interests and quickly became friends. They'd hung out a lot back then, before she'd moved to Rhode Island. They'd still kept in contact quite a bit until around 2010. Their conversing had become infrequent around then, and now they practically never talked. Lauren grew saddened as she thought of this. They'd been good friends. Noah hadn't been the same since his cousin, Milo, died.

Milo Asher had been a troubled person for his entire life. He was a great guy, but he had some serious personal problems. On top of that, his mother, Mary, wasn't exactly in the best state of mind either. She'd been married and divorced twice, something that had really taken a toll on both of them. Milo never wanted to talk about his problems, and eventually, they'd gotten worse and worse until they drove him to suicide back in 2010. Lauren remembered getting that phone call from Noah the day it happened. She'd barely been able to understand him over his sobbing.

She'd attended Milo's funeral and done her best to comfort Noah and his family in their time of need. Lauren began to feel teary eyed thinking about it. The last time she'd spoken with Noah had been a couple years ago when he'd called to tell her that Mary Asher had been murdered. Lauren had attended that funeral too. Noah seemed very different then. He looked and acted as if he'd been through a war…

Lauren found herself touching her black necklace… the one that Noah had given her for her birthday long ago. Suddenly, her thoughts were interrupted by the familiar buzz of her cell phone. It was Carl.

"Hey, Carl," she said.

"Hey Lauren, it's good to hear from you again. Kate told me that we'd be seeing you soon."

Lauren began to respond, but he interrupted her before she could say a word.

"Look, I don't have a lot of time, so listen closely. You need to abandon the Oakside case and forget about coming up here. Forget about me and Kate. Go home and live your life like a normal person. It's too late for us, but not for you."

Lauren sat there, dumbfounded. "Carl… what the fuck?" The only answer she received was the sound of the call being ended.

She tried to call him back but was greeted with an automated message saying that his number had been disconnected. Fear gripped her like never before. Whatever was going on was far more serious than she'd originally thought. She threw away her trash and went back to her car, driving non-stop for the rest of the day.

Well into the night, Lauren reached the outskirts of Oakside. The terrible thunderstorm overhead was growing worse and worse. Rain pelted her windshield, obscuring her vision. The rolling hills and tall mountains were dark and ominous, and the nearby pine trees could only be seen when lightning struck. The savage wind had stripped the leaves from most of the other trees, leaving their branches bare and jagged. This weather was too dangerous to drive in, and Lauren knew it. She stopped at the first motel she spotted, checking in quickly and collapsing in bed. The mysteries could wait until tomorrow. She was powerless to do anything at the moment, and it had been a long day.

**(X)**

"Argh… my head… it hurts. The throbbing… pain… please, make it stop!"

Lauren opened her eyes, breathing heavily as she took in her surroundings. It was nighttime, and the sky was cloudy and overcast, keeping the moon from lighting up the streets. Wait a minute… this was 7th Street, back in Providence. "What the hell?" Lauren moaned as she stood up, clutching her head in pain. She had a horrible migraine. Then she noticed something. It was definitely 7th Street, but it wasn't the one she knew. The area was desolate. The streets were empty. There were no cars, no people, nothing. The only light came from the occasionally flickering street lamps.

The buildings were dark and devoid of life. Windows were broken and there were cracks in the walls. The only sign of civilization was the usual trash littering the streets. "Hello… anybody?" Lauren called out as she wandered through the ghost town. This place… it didn't feel right. It felt… unnatural. It had an eerie, almost apocalyptic vibe to it. As Lauren explored the area, she noticed that the roads were blocked off by large trucks. All of the doors she tried were locked as well. Then, she noticed something out of the corner of her eye. A large scrap of paper was stuck to the front doors of her team's headquarters.

As she approached it, she started to feel uneasy. That feeling only multiplied as she read the paper. It was stained red with blood, and only read; **"No Escape."** Lauren's heart began to race as she suddenly felt a dark presence, and saw a large shadow looming over her. Suddenly, a clammy, bony hand grasped her shoulder…

**(X)**

Her eyes shot open and she sat up in bed, taking deep breaths and checking her surroundings. She was still at the motel. "Oh thank god, it was just a dream," she gasped. She was drenched in cold sweat and felt sick. That hadn't felt like a dream. It had felt real… too real. She drank some water while trying to calm herself down, listening to the fierce storm outside. She checked her watch; 7:30am. "So much for sleeping in," she grumbled. Once she'd recovered from her nightmare, Lauren curled up in bed, slowly falling back into an uneasy sleep.


	3. Eyes Wide Open

Lauren awoke to the pitter-patter of raindrops on the motel's roof. It was a tranquil sound, one that she found rather soothing. She rolled over in bed and looked at the clock on the bedside table. It read; 9:30am: Wednesday, September 13th, 2017. Yawning, she got out of bed and began her morning routine. Her nightmare about 7th Street was already forgotten. She felt completely rejuvenated and was ready for this road trip to finally be over. A short while later, Lauren had packed the few things that she'd brought inside and checked out of the motel. However, she was met with a nasty surprise as she approached her car.

"Are you kidding me?" she practically shouted. All four of her car's tires were flat. They'd been slashed during the night. "Goddammit!" she yelled, attracting the attention of a few pedestrians. Trying her best to control her burning rage, she tried dialing Kate's number to let her know what was going on but was met with the busy signal. She then tried Kate's cell phone. Also nothing. She even tried calling Carl but was met with the same result. "The reception here fucking sucks," she grumbled, heading back inside to call for a mechanic.

**(X)**

Ten hours and several hundred dollars later, Lauren was back on the road. She was still pissed about the tires, but fortunately, her insurance covered most of the expenses. Despite the infuriating setback, a homely feeling stole over her as she drove through the small town of Oakside. It hadn't changed much since the last time she'd been here, and she wouldn't want it any other way. Sadly, the trip through the city was short-lived, as Lauren quickly turned onto a dirt road leading out into the country. By the time she finally reached Kate's property it was around 7:54pm, and the sun was setting. Unfortunately, she was met with another setback upon pulling into the driveway. A large tree had been felled by the previous night's storm and was blocking the path.

Sighing to herself, she took the keys out of the ignition and stepped outside. The chilly autumn air hit her fast, and she was suddenly thankful for her white jacket. Lauren decided to try calling Kate one last time so that she could get a ride to her house instead of having to walk all the way there, but again, she was met with the busy signal. "Well, this is just perfect," Lauren muttered. Seeing no other option, Lauren grabbed her camcorder from the passenger seat. After locking her car, she turned the camera on and started walking down the driveway, glancing at the large yellow sign that advertised the house and 20+ acres of land that Kate was selling.

Her stress quickly dissipated as the beautiful scenery worked its magic. The wild grass was already changing from green to orange, and the leaves on the trees were various shades of deep orange, bright yellow, and crimson red. Birds chirped to one another, and multicolored leaves fell from the trees as a light wind blew through the landscape, creating a peaceful, calming environment. The bright colored leaves and grass contrasted heavily with the green surplus of conifers in the distance, as well as the few that stood nearby. Deciduous trees were few in number compared to the massive amounts of pines, spruces, and cedars.

Far to the right was a wooden fence that separated Kate's property from a farmer's, and hay bales dotted the landscape on the other side. Old telephone poles stood tall on both sides of the fence, and the glowing red light of a radio tower shone like a beacon above the distant mountains. Interestingly enough, the fence to the left started out normally but stopped once it reached some large rock formations. It appeared that the previous owners had used the terrain to their advantage, but since the stones were few in number, had to continue the fence on the other side. Strangely, they'd decided to use bricks to make a large wall instead of continuing the simple wooden fence.

Lauren kept walking, enjoying the nice day and taking in all of the sights. There was at least one advantage to living in a place so isolated, and that was the beautiful scenery. She noticed that the sun was getting lower and lower in the sky, and knowing that it would get much colder when it did, began jogging. She eventually got to a point where the previous owners had used the rock formations to their advantage once again, but this time there was something of interest nearby. A lone car was parked in the middle of the driveway, and Lauren recognized it as Carl's. She quickly became uneasy, remembering that bizarre phone call she'd received from him. Trying to ignore it, she went up to inspect the car.

The car had been parked for a while, something that was obvious by how many leaves had accumulated on top of it. It must have been there for at least a day, and the doors were locked, but other than that there was nothing that seemed out of the ordinary. Shrugging it off as Carl making poor decisions, she kept on walking. Eventually, the rock formations stopped for good and were replaced by an old cobblestone fence. As she continued onward, a familiar brick wall came into sight, as well as an even more familiar house peeking over the top of it.

As Lauren neared the house, the sun finally set, bathing the landscape in darkness. Luckily, her camcorder was still capable of filming everything, thanks to the bright moonlight. The cobblestone fence ended a few feet away from the brick wall, and a locked wooden gate stood between the two structures. A small trail branched off from the driveway and led through the gate, passed an old well, and kept going off into someone else's property. On the opposite end of the wall was another trail. Like the driveway itself, fallen trees were blocking it off, as well as a hay bale that had blown all the way over from the neighbor's property. "That storm really took a toll on this place," she thought to herself.

Lauren immediately knew that something was wrong when she saw that Kate's front door was wide open. She could think of no logical reason for Kate to leave it like that, especially during early autumn. As if that wasn't weird enough, the garage door was open as well. Wondering what exactly was going on, she cautiously approached the house. Suddenly, a metallic creak rang out from her left. Lauren jumped at the sound but was relieved to see that it was just the swings moving in the wind. Despite the circumstances, she couldn't help but smile at the memory of playing with Kate on her swingset back when they were kids. As she reached the door, Lauren took a fearful breath and stepped inside, terrified of what she might find.

As she stepped onto the dark, wooden floor within, the place immediately set off several red flags. Strange drawings of pine trees and a suited man littered the wall by the stairs. One of the shelves on the wall was broken and the pictures on the staircase were crooked, some were even knocked off of the wall. An open backpack had been placed at the bottom of the stairs as well. "Kate?" Lauren called out. No answer. Dread began to set in as Lauren's imagination ran wild. Nervously, she entered the door to the right and found herself in the dining room. Aside from a few overturned chairs and scattered books on the floor, the room was in peak condition. A dark oak dining table stood at the center of the room, surrounded by the chairs that were still standing. A dark brown chandelier hung above the table, and two empty china cabinets stood against the far right wall. A square, black coffee table holding a flower pot stood at the top left corner of the room, and on each of its two available sides was a wooden armchair with white cushions. Thankful that the first room she'd explored hadn't been completely ransacked, Lauren decided she was ready to move on.

She left the dining room and entered the dark kitchen, which was perhaps one of two places downstairs where the floor wasn't wooden. Instead, the kitchen had tile flooring, which was various shades of black, gray, and white. Flicking the light switch on had no effect, which was odd since other areas of the house still had power. Remembering that Kate had spare flashlights somewhere in the kitchen, Lauren began searching through drawers. It didn't take her long to find one, and luckily enough, it was fully charged. She flicked it on and watched as its bright beam of light illuminated the room. Just as she was about to continue looking through the house, something caught her eye. A red light was blinking on Kate's phone, indicating a voicemail. Unable to contain her curiosity, Lauren played the recording.

_"Hey, Kate, it's CR again. I hope everything's ok._

_I know there's been a lot to take in and wrap your head around._

_It'll be good when Lauren gets there to help you sell the house…_

_take a little load off your mind._

_Give me a call when you get the chance and we can talk._

_Take care."_

By the sound of it, the voicemail was at least a few days old. Carl spoke a lot differently in the voicemail than he had the previous night. Something terrible must have happened to change his demeanor that drastically. As fear slowly consumed her, Lauren continued searching, taking the hallway to the right and entering the garage. Oddly enough, the only car in there was Kate's. "So why did Carl park way out in the driveway?" Lauren muttered. Suddenly, a terrible thought crossed her mind. "Could Carl be responsible for all of this?" she thought to herself. It was possible, considering what he'd said to her earlier. Lauren felt ashamed as soon as the thought crossed her mind. Carl had been a great friend since she'd met him. She felt terrible that she'd even considered that as a possibility.

After finding nothing of interest, she shut the garage door for good measure and went back inside, doing what she could to clear her head as she entered a small side room that branched off from the hallway. She wasn't really sure what it was meant to be since it contained nothing more than a rug, some cabinets, and a radio. Through a door in the side room was a small bathroom furnished with gray tile flooring, as were all of the other bathrooms in the house. Neither room held anything of importance. The two rooms weren't empty because of Kate moving either… They'd always been this way.

As she went back into the kitchen, Lauren noticed something that had previously evaded her attention. A small, magnetic whiteboard was stuck to the refrigerator and had what appeared to be a checklist written on it. Its contents were mildly disturbing, as they were intended to remind Kate to obtain a flashlight, batteries, extra tapes, a lighter, and kerosene. It also had "Lock The House" written on it, circled and underlined for extra emphasis. Lauren could understand the first three, but why would Kate need a lighter and kerosene? Just before exiting the kitchen, Lauren noticed a pamphlet featuring a picture of Kate's mother laying on the table;

**Honoring The Life**

**of Beth Hayes**

October 18th, 2009

09:00 AM

Grace Hill Cemetery

615 Everson Street

Pastor John Taylor

Kate had kept the pamphlet all these years to help her grieve. Lauren grew sad as she thought about the situation. Beth didn't deserve what happened to her… she'd been an amazing person. Remembering where she was, Lauren snapped herself out of her somber trance and returned to investigating, catching another glimpse of Kate's phone in the process. "Idiot!" she said to herself, unable to believe that she hadn't called the police yet. However, to Lauren's dismay, the phone line appeared to be dead. She tried using her cell phone as well, but there was no signal. She was on her own now. Ignoring the growing sense of dread, she entered the next room.

The small living room contained two green armchairs, one of which was overturned. A leather couch stood near the door she'd come through, and in front of it was a fancy black coffee table holding a chessboard, sat atop a circular white rug. On the other side of the room, next to the still-standing armchair, was an old possession of Beth's; a brown Decker Brothers' Piano and two white stools, one of which was overturned. Placed next to the wall, between the room's two doors, was a desk that held a small lamp, a pot of flowers, and a box of antique cigars. Those were just for decoration since Kate didn't smoke. The label on the lid read;

**San Fernando**

**De**

**Omoa**

**1712**

As Lauren inspected the room, her camera suddenly emitted a strange noise as she pointed it at the windows. The video distorted as well, causing her a great deal of frustration since the thing was relatively new. Luckily, it appeared to be an isolated incident, so she shrugged it off. Stepping over the various books scattered across the floor, Lauren entered the next room, noting that if the wall between the two rooms was to be taken out, it would create one big living room. A black TV stand stood atop a gray, rectangular rug, and a large flat screen TV stood atop that stand, although it was partially knocked over and leaning against the wall. A white armchair and couch of the same color stood side by side in front of the TV. The couch had both tan and white pillows on it, and a tall lamp had been knocked over between it and the wall. In a corner of the room, behind the couch, was a black, square table that held a gray tea set, and on the opposite side of the room was a tall bookshelf that held numerous books, some vases, and a framed picture of Kate and Beth. Once again, books littered the floor, and this time there were a few pillows joining them. Lastly, a brown, wooden coffee table stood between the furniture and the TV. Another one of the house phones sat atop it, along with a white porcelain bowl full of oranges. There was also a note left for Lauren that read;

**Thank You**

I can't thank you enough

for coming out all this way to

help me out! It's been a pretty

rough road trying to sell this

old place, I wish I had turned

to you sooner. You have no idea

how happy I'll be once this is

all behind me! :)

Love you always,

Kate

That was it for the downstairs. All of the rooms had been cleared, and their positioning had resulted in a loop right back to the staircase. As Lauren stared up at the second floor, she began to feel more and more uneasy. It was much darker up there than it was on the first floor, and if she'd learned anything from the kitchen, it was that the lights wouldn't be coming back on. Placing her hand on the railing, Lauren began her slow ascent, doing her best to ignore the eerie creaking of the wooden steps. After several minutes of nervous climbing, she finally stepped onto the thick, gray carpet of the second floor. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she headed down the hallway to the right, straight toward Kate's bedroom. Lauren had always found it strange that she preferred to sleep in that small guest room rather than the master bedroom on the opposite side of the staircase.

Using her flashlight as a guide, Lauren made her way to the end of the hall. The bedroom door was shut, and she could feel a cold draft coming from underneath it. "Kate? Are you in there?" she said. There was no response. She tried turning the handle but immediately discovered that the door was locked. Cursing under her breath, she went back down the hall, deciding to look for a key, as Kate was known to leave things lying around. She checked in the master bedroom first but found nothing of interest, and the same went for the bathroom that branched off from it.

Getting rather annoyed, she returned to the dark hallway and searched the remaining three rooms. She found nothing of interest in a former office room, only boxes ready for moving. She also had no luck with the large bathroom on the opposite side of the hall. Finally, she was fortunate enough to find the key in the guest room next to the office. Mentally kicking herself for not searching there first, she walked back to Kate's bedroom. As she stuck the key into the keyhole, she paused for a moment, terrified of what she might find on the other side. Taking a deep breath, she turned the key and stepped inside.

The door swung open, revealing a disturbing sight. The room was dark except for a small lamp on Kate's desk, doing little to illuminating the place. The walls were covered in crazed drawings, and the papers they were sketched on nearly blocked the walls from sight. There was cryptic writing on them, the most frequent phrase being; "Can You See It". A large version of this phrase was written on the wall in what appeared to be red marker, along with a drawing of the radio tower that Lauren had seen atop the distant mountains earlier. A large drawing of the suited man accompanied the two sketches, but this time he was crossed out for some reason. Lauren stood in the doorway, mouth agape. She was at a loss for words.

Then, she noticed the window, or what was left of it. Broken glass littered the floor and, wait, was that blood? "Did Kate jump out of the window?" she thought to herself. Lauren looked down into the yard and saw the glitter of broken glass, but Kate was nowhere to be found. She also noticed that the back gate was wide open. Shaking her head in disbelief, she looked back at Kate's desk and noticed something that she hadn't seen before. It was a sheet of white printer paper that featured a rough drawing of trees and the phrase "To The Woods". As she pondered the meaning of it, Lauren's thoughts were interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream.

She whipped around, looked back out the window. The scream had lasted for about four or five seconds, and it sounded as if it had come from Oakside Park. More importantly, it sounded exactly like Kate. "What the hell is she doing way out there?" Lauren asked. That's when she realized that Kate was in serious trouble. Knowing full well that the authorities were unreachable, she took matters into her own hands and sprinted out of Kate's room, down the stairs, and out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

She ran into the backyard, bypassing an old wooden playset and bolting through the open gate, heading down the dirt road that lay behind it on a dead run. The road was long abandoned and had formerly been used by Oakside Park staff. Lauren kept running until she was out of breath and forced to stop. As she gasped for breath, she felt the bite of the cold night air, becoming even more thankful for the jacket that she was wearing. Finally managing to catch her breath, Lauren started walking at a brisk pace, eventually coming across a small yellow generator. Curious as to whether or not the thing still worked, she flipped the switch.

Sure enough, the old contraption sprung to life. A short distance away, three different construction spotlights set atop wooden crates and palettes flickered on. They were spread out evenly and did a good job of lighting up the path. Thankful that she wouldn't have to waste her flashlight's battery, Lauren switched it off and continued her journey. To the left of the trail, next to a fallen tree and a boulder, was a heap of objects including road cones, a construction spool, and a wooden pallet holding several sandbags. Ahead was an old telephone pole, its wires shredded and blowing lightly in the wind.

A sudden pop nearly gave Lauren a heart attack. As she'd been passing the third spotlight, its bulbs had exploded violently, sending sparks and shards of glass flying. After quickly recovering from that scare, she activated her flashlight once more and followed the trail up and over a hill. Further down the road was a second generator, and another road branching off from the main one. As she neared the generator, she received another scare when a flock of ravens suddenly took flight from the nearby trees, squawking indignantly at the woman who'd disturbed their slumber. Choosing to ignore the birds, she activated the generator. Three more spotlights sprang to life, but they were spread out too far to light up much of the path. The first only illuminated some construction materials. The second one, however, revealed something interesting. Attached to a slim tree was a missing child poster, tattered and yellowed with age. A picture of a little boy was at its center, and there was some important information printed on it;

** Missing **

Have You Seen This Child?

**Charlie Matheson Jr.**

If You Have Seen This Child

Please Contact 555 - 3799

Matheson… Lauren recognized that name. The Matheson Family Farm was the place that Carl had investigated. That's when Lauren realized something; she'd seen the name "Matheson" in that article about the house fire. Charles Matheson, who was undoubtedly Charlie's father, was the only person to die in the fire, and it had happened long after his son went missing. Then, another thought crossed Lauren's mind; The Mathesons were obviously connected to Carl's situation, but were they somehow connected to Kate's as well?

Pondering the many thoughts and questions going through her head, Lauren returned her attention to more pressing concerns. The road ended up leading to a small wooden bridge that crossed a flooded stream. A fallen tree had taken out a good portion of the bridge, but it was still passable. After making it to the other side, she neared the third and final spotlight, which only illuminated more construction material. Then, she felt a sudden chill run up her spine. Lauren paused for a moment and snapped her head to the right, noticing a tall, dark figure standing atop one of the hills. She grew nervous as she squinted, trying to make out what it was. It had the shape of a man but was unnaturally tall. She could just barely make out something white and swore that there was a visible smudge of red.

In an instant, the figure disappeared and Lauren no longer felt that unnatural chill. Shrugging it off as paranoia playing tricks on her, she continued down the path, failing to notice the slight audio/video distortion affecting her camera. A few minutes later she came across yet another generator. When she turned it on, a storage yard a short distance away was lit up by a series of spotlights. However, just before Lauren could investigate the area, she heard a noise that made her freeze in her tracks. It almost sounded like a long, raspy breath, carried by the wind. She turned towards the direction the sound had come from, and her flashlight's beam landed on a dark, ominous building.

The charred husk of a once luxurious house sat atop a small hill. A fire had destroyed the structure long ago, and its windows were blocked with rotting boards, even the ones on the second floor. Its blackened doors were miraculously still clinging to their hinges, and the whole place looked like it could collapse at any moment. As she stared at the eerie sight, she realized something. This was Charles Matheson's old house… the one he'd died in. As Lauren pondered this revelation, she heard a faint sound coming from the building. It almost sounded like crying. "Of all the places she could be, why does it have to be here?" Lauren wondered aloud. Swallowing nervously, she slowly made her way towards the house.

The interior was far worse than the exterior. All that was left was burned, decaying boards. The drywall was gone, and not even the stairs to the second floor had survived the flames. The blaze had blackened everything, and soot and ashes covered the floor, forming miniature dunes. Lauren heard the crying again, noticing that it was becoming louder. She crept towards the source, being as quiet as possible in case it was something other than what she expected. Her nerves combined with her attempts at stealth resulted in Lauren failing to notice that her camera's video feed had been tinted a deep shade of blue. Suddenly, there was a crunch beneath her foot, making her jump slightly. She stepped away from the offending object, which turned out to be an old drawing made by a child. It was hard to tell what some of the things in the picture were, like the yellow 'twigs' and the building with oddly drawn silos, but everything else was obvious. There were hills in the background, a red barn, a gray house, the name "Charlie" written rather small, and what appeared to be three tombstones beside a chapel. The most prominent sketch, however, was that same suited man at the center of it all. Lauren didn't pay much attention to the drawing and made her way through the maze of boards and ashes until finally coming upon the source of the crying. She froze up immediately, gazing in silent horror at the atrocity in front of her.

A ghastly, corpse-like figure stood in the far corner of the room, shuddering and twitching. Its skin was a sickening combination of blue and pale and was stretched so tightly over its skinny body that it was practically a skeleton. It wore nothing but what appeared to be a tattered loincloth, or perhaps the shreds of pants. It was splotched with dried blood, and its long, mangy, black hair clung to its decayed skin. It may have been human… once. It actually looked like it could've been a preteen. The noises it made sounded like sobs, growls, and whispers.

Lauren stood there in frozen horror, unable to take her eyes off of the creature. It didn't seem to notice her, and she wanted to keep it that way. However, after watching the thing for a short time, something changed inside of her. She realized just how much the creature was suffering, and couldn't even begin to imagine the pain it must have felt. She pitied the poor thing and felt an overwhelming urge to help it. She cautiously approached it, attempting to communicate. "Hey… are you okay?" she whispered. It didn't hear Lauren's question, or perhaps it was ignoring her. Slowly, she reached out to it and put her hand on its shoulder, trying to comfort it.

The creature let out an unholy shriek and whipped around. Incoherent shapes and figures splashed across Lauren's sight as her vision was overcome with a sickening shade of blue and a high-pitched screech filled her ears. The exact same effect overcame her camera. She felt something strike her and fell to the ground, the sound of fleeing footsteps filling her ears as her camcorder and senses returned to normal. Without hesitation, she got up and ran out of the house as fast as she possibly could, nearly tripping over an old framed picture of a farm in the process. She burst outside into the cool night air and headed towards the storage yard.

She dove behind some crates and tried to stop hyperventilating. She was beyond terrified and had been emotionally scarred for life. She didn't know what that thing was, or why it was in that house, but one thing was for certain; Lauren was never going back there. What she'd just witnessed shouldn't have been possible. It made her wonder if Kate and Carl had actually been hallucinating all these years, or if something much more sinister was going on. A little while later, after finally managing to recuperate, Lauren realized that she was bleeding. The scratches on her shoulder weren't very deep and were easily clotted, but that didn't make them sting any less. After tending to her wound and making sure that the monstrosity wasn't hiding around a corner and waiting to attack, Lauren cautiously stepped out from behind the crates. Seeing that she was alone, she began sprinting down the trail, not daring to look back at the house.

After what seemed like hours, she finally reached the staff entrance. The old, decrepit building was separated into two parts. The area between the two halves was open space, and a movable chain-link fence stood between them, blocking the dirt trail, which kept going right through the middle. To the right of the fence was a rectangular sign attached to the side of the building. It featured an artist's portrayal of a stream flowing through the forest and simply read; **"Oakside Park"**. Lauren passed the sign and turned a corner, approaching the front door. Surprisingly, it was unlocked and easily swung open. There wasn't much to see in the building; just some crates and tables. She reached the second half of the office without any difficulties.

When she entered the last section of the building, Lauren's eyes grew wide as she saw the writing on the wooden wall at the back of the room. It was scrawled in what appeared to be white chalk, and read; _"Find Me, Lauren"_. Then, she noticed a weathered notebook sitting on a desk at the back of the room. She approached it, and read the two pages it was opened to;

_HE CAME FOR ME_

_WHY DIDN'T I LISTEN_

_He was right_

_He said this would HAPPEN_

_HELP ME_

_NEED CR_

_HE KNOWS HOW TO END THIS_

_Come find me_

_Don't LET HIM IN_

"This is Kate's…" Lauren whispered. Her suspicions were confirmed; Kate was definitely here. Swallowing her fear and taking a few deep breaths to steady herself, she opened the door to her right, stepping into the cold night air of Oakside Park.


	4. Eight More Pages

Waves crashed against the beach as a light wind blew through the trees, carrying with it the refreshing scent of the lake. The dark pine forest far off in the distance loomed ominously over the peaceful body of water, casting shadowy reflections on its surface. A light fog was rolling in over the lake, and schools of fish could be seen swimming below the surface of the crystal clear water. The night sky was black and dotted with stars, and the dim light of the full moon did what it could to illuminate the landscape. Crickets hiding in the tall grass chirped loudly, and owls perched in the trees hooted back and forth.

Lauren took in her surroundings as she stepped through the door, letting it shut behind her. The beach stretched a ways to the left, with the area to the right of the entrance being blocked off by boulders and trees. It appeared that residents of Oakside really enjoyed taking advantage of the terrain, as the building she'd entered the park through was built into a wall of stone. The dirt trail that went under the building's gate was covered with sand, and as Lauren looked at the dock it led to, she realized it was meant for launching boats.

A short distance ahead was a small, decrepit building. The majority of the structure was made from concrete, but the roof and deck consisted of wood. The deck was low to the ground, and a small staircase with metal steps led up to it. The building's windows were boarded up, and rusted nails barely held the rotting boards in place. It was completely empty, except for some boxes and stray papers on the porch. Three canoes rested in the sand nearby, and a large sign on the side of the building read;

**Oakside Park**

**Has 3 Canoes**

**Available For Rental**

Lauren continued her trek down the beach, quickly forgetting the rental building. She quickly came across a chain-link fence standing between the wall of stone and a few large rocks near the water. It was a dumb design, really. Someone could easily just go around the rocks if they wanted to get in. Wondering how such an awful design had ever been approved, she walked through the open gate and into the vast landscape of Oakside Park, failing to notice it shut and lock itself behind her.

The wall of stones ended abruptly, but the way it was formed led Lauren to believe that it was acting as a wall for the park. An old wooden fence branched off from it as well and led in the direction that Lauren wanted to go. She was still walking on the beach, but now the park's woods and dirt trails were much closer. Three different paths led into the woods from the beach, reminiscent of an intersection. The first went left, the second went straight, and the third went right. As she was deciding which one she'd explore first, Lauren noticed something odd.

Over to the right side of the beach stood a leafless, crooked tree with a busted canoe propped up against it. It might seem normal for wrecked property to be in an abandoned place, but the canoe wasn't just old or decayed. It was covered in burns and had numerous signs of water damage. Then, Lauren noticed something hanging from a low branch on the tree. It was a sheet of notebook paper with the word **"Follows" **written vertically on it. The note also featured a drawing of a pine tree and a tall, suited man.

After studying it for a minute or two, she realized something. She'd seen similar drawings before… in Kate's bedroom. After inspecting it closely, Lauren determined that is was definitely Kate's handwriting. Although it was scribbled and frantic, it matched perfectly. This was confirmation that Kate was in Oakside Park… or at least, she had been. More determined than ever to find her, Lauren decided to take the note for future reference. But as soon as she did, she began to regret it. An eerie voice rang out just loud enough for her to hear; _**"****One of Eight."**_

A large cloud covered the moon, shrouding the park in an impenetrable darkness. The drumbeats began almost immediately, eerily repeating in an endless loop. It sent a chill down her spine, and she knew she wasn't hearing things because the camera was picking it up too. Lauren had no idea what was causing it but knew that she was too exposed standing on the beach. She was well aware that whatever was making that noise probably wasn't friendly. Making a quick decision, she chose the path that led up the hill to the right. More thankful than ever for her flashlight, she headed down the path, unable to shake the unnerving sensation of being watched.

Lauren felt a great weight lifted off of her shoulders as she left the beach. The trees surrounding the trail gave her a sense of security, as the heavy foliage would make it difficult for anything to sneak up on her. The intensity of the wind coming off the lake was increasing, but the trees did a good job of protecting her from the cold gusts of air. However, the constant drumbeats never ceased, and Lauren grew more and more paranoid with each set. Quickening her pace, she saw an old, decrepit building at the top of the hill. Her curiosity took over and she headed towards it, noticing a large sign above the door that read;

**Oakside Park**

**Information Centre**

The empty husk of a once inviting building loomed over Lauren as she reached the top of the hill. Its large windows had all been shattered, and the only remaining evidence of a door was warped hinges and an empty frame. Her flashlight's beam shone through the broken windows, illuminating the decimated interior. The remaining furniture was overturned and broken, shattered glass littered the floor, and rotting boards were strewn about the room. Trying her best to ignore the relentless drumbeats, she entered the building. Immediately, the foul smell of mildew hit her nose. The place had clearly been in disarray for quite a while. The only thing that was noteworthy was a large desk where employees had formerly been stationed. Lauren looked around, hoping to find something beneficial… maybe even something to defend herself with.

However, there was nothing useful in the room, unless you count rotting furniture. Not wanting to go back out into the open just yet, Lauren decided to explore the remaining rooms. She took the hallway to the right, discovering a series of small side rooms. All three were located on the right side of the hallway, but they didn't contain much more than rotting furniture and boarded windows. However, she did find something rather useful. One of the smaller rooms contained frames of slim metal bars. Most of them were corroded beyond repair, but there were still a few that remained in a decent condition. She broke a bar off of the rusted frame and clutched her new weapon, ready to defend herself.

The hallway ended up leading to another entrance, but there was nothing important in that lobby, other than busted windows. On a hunch, Lauren decided to double check the building in case she'd missed something. It was a good thing she did because sure enough, she noticed something that she'd previously overlooked. On the other side of the hallway was a door that led to a large bathroom. Upon entering, she immediately caught sight of another sheet of notebook paper wedged between two boards. It was another one of Kate's. The word **"No" **was written all over the paper, and it featured another drawing of the suited man.

After Lauren took the note, the strange voice spoke up again; _**"Two of Eight."**_ Every time she heard that voice she grew more paranoid, but another problem was arising as well. She was parched. Despite how stupid it seemed, she tried turning one of the sinks on, remembering that the local government was trying to return the park to its former glory. To her surprise and joy, a steady trickle of water began flowing out of the faucet. She let it run for a few minutes to clear out the harmful materials that had accumulated over the years before drinking from it.

Wiping her mouth, she turned the faucet off, looked into the mirror, and froze. Standing just behind her was some sort of humanoid figure shrouded in darkness. It appeared to be male, as she could make out its masculine form. It had semi-long hair, and the creature appeared to be a living silhouette. It wore rectangular glasses, and the lenses glowed milky white. The entity must have seen her expression of terror because a sinister, glowing white smile manifested on his face.

Snapping back to her senses, Lauren whipped around and swung the metal bar towards the creature as hard as she could. Her attack only succeeded in putting a dent in the wall. Whatever had been there was gone without a trace. Lauren took deep breaths, unsure of what just happened. There was one thing she did know though; the building was no longer safe. After that realization, she ran out the original entrance, refusing to look back. However, as she headed back down the dirt path, she heard a sadistic cackle ring out from the Information Centre.

The figure didn't seem to be following her. Lauren could hardly believe what she'd just experienced, and probably would have chalked it up to a hallucination if it hadn't seemed so real. The feeling of being watched… the sudden chill in the air… that horrible laugh… those couldn't be excused as figments of her imagination. The most unnerving aspect of the whole ordeal was how it hadn't tried to do anything. It was content with just standing there and watching… Observing…

As Lauren realized what this meant, an intense wave a dread washed over her. The silhouette wasn't the real threat here. If it was, it would've harmed her, given chase, or actually done something other than just stand there. It was only here to enjoy the show, which was likely being put on by something much worse. Lauren was running as fast as she could now, and had already passed the beach again and run onto the opposite trail. She was beyond terrified and would've just left the godforsaken park if Kate hadn't needed her help. Her legs were burning now, and her pace slowed to a walk as she ascended the hill.

A dim light shone like a beacon at the top of the hill. Lauren didn't quite understand how it could still be running, but any light in the endless darkness was welcome. The source appeared to be a rusted floodlight atop an old, rickety, wooden observation tower. The fact that it was still standing was astonishing, and the light at its top was even more intriguing. Lost in thought, Lauren nearly forgot about the notes but remembered quickly when she noticed something white blowing in the wind.

Sure enough, another of Kate's drawings was attached to one of the tower's lower support beams. This one was slightly more unnerving, as it simply read; **"Can't Run"**. When Lauren took the note, the voice piped up yet again; _**"Three of Eight." **_However, something else happened this time. The drumbeats from before abruptly ceased. The only noise came from chirping crickets, hooting owls, and the wind blowing through the trees. Just as she was beginning to feel more at ease, a distorted noise far more disturbing than the last took its place.

It was a lowly drone, repeating endlessly just like the drumbeats had done. It was like the new noise was marking a new "phase". Lauren didn't like the sound of that. Fearing for her life, she was just about to take off but was stopped by a strange sight before she had the chance. A bizarre symbol in the shape of an elongated diamond was scratched into the wood. Two straight lines were drawn inside of the diamond. One connected the top and bottom angles, and the other connected the angles on the left and right. The two lines intersected inside of a circle drawn at the symbol's center.

Lauren looked closely at it, pondering the strange symbol's meaning. Her efforts were to no avail, as there was no way it would make any sense to someone not affiliated with its source. Finally giving up on it, she returned her thoughts to more pressing matters. In the half-second it took her to turn around, she realized that the animals of the forest had fallen silent, and a cold chill was in the air. Suddenly, a tall figure appeared right in front of her with a sound like thunder, knocking her to the ground. Her camera emitted a high pitched screech, as well as other audio frequencies. The video began tearing and distorting heavily, and waves of corrupted color splashed across the screen. Lauren's flashlight was also affected by the creature's presence and began flickering rapidly. She could only gaze up at her attacker in horror, scarcely able to believe what she was seeing.

The tall man was dressed for a funeral; wearing a suit, dress pants, and dress shoes as black as night. It also wore a white undershirt and had a crimson tie tucked into its suit. It obviously wasn't human, that much was clear just from its height. The man had to be at least nine or ten feet tall, and its unnaturally long arms nearly came down to its knees. Its skin was clammy and deathly pale, and its bony hands had long, slim fingers. However, those horrifying features were accompanied by something even worse; the creature's face. Only, there was no face. No hair, no eyes, no ears. No facial features of any kind.

Lauren stared up at the monster, mouth agape in disbelief and horror. This was the suited man from Kate's drawings, the thing that had been tormenting her, and possibly Carl, for all this time. It was the source of all of their problems. Strangely, mixed in with the sense of horror was a feeling of familiarity, as if she'd seen or heard of this thing before. Lauren snapped out of her trance, and her survival instinct took over immediately. Throwing all caution to the wind, she stood up and swung the metal bar at the creature as hard as she could. The thing didn't even try to move out of the way. The bar harmlessly bounced off of the creature, stinging her hand in the process. She dropped the bar and clutched her hand in pain, backing away from the demon.

The tall man looked down at her, slightly tilting its head in annoyance. Then, a mass of slim, black tentacles erupted from its back and snaked towards her, writhing aggressively. Lauren started feeling lightheaded and could feel blood trickling from her nose. Her ears were ringing, her vision was going fuzzy, and her heart was pounding so hard she could hear it. She tore her eyes away from the monstrosity and took off down the path, hellbent on getting as far away from that thing as possible.

The further away she ran, the more bearable her symptoms got. The stream of blood coming from her nose had finally ceased, but in its place was a terrible migraine. Lauren sprinted down the trail, not daring to look back. If just gazing at that thing was enough to nearly incapacitate her, she dreaded to think of what it might do if it caught her. To Lauren's delight, her flashlight illuminated some cover a short distance away. It was a large, roofed storage yard containing park property, as well as crates belonging to the old Kullman Mining Company. Branching off to the left was a small path that led to a tent, with what appeared to be an active fire pit next to it.

Lauren decided to quickly inspect the tent, hoping to find something useful inside. The tent's flaps were open and blowing in the wind, and the fire next to it was blazing bright, a comfortable warmth emanating from it. The idea that someone else might still be in the park was unnerving to Lauren, and she was scared of what she might find within. Hesitantly, she entered the tent, and much to her surprise, she found it to be in a relatively good condition. The only items worth noting were two sleeping bags, a half-full water bottle, and an old book. It was extremely likely that Kate and Carl had been staying here, and it wasn't a mystery as to what drove them out. Lauren then noticed a fourth item in the tent. It was a slightly burned piece of paper, folded in half. She picked it up and opened it, reading the note left behind.

"**Lauren, you should have heeded my warnings. We gave you every chance to avoid this nightmare, and you still walked right into it. You'll have to find your own way out of this now, but not without some help. This information is crucial to your survival, so listen closely. The Keeper will never stop hunting you. Not now, not ever. The cards have been dealt, and He has you in His sights. However, there is still a way to make it out of this alive. Five of those pages remain hidden in this park. Follow in Kate's footsteps and find all eight. Only then will you be free. Good luck."**

**~F**

"I guess I know what Kate went through in Riverside now," Lauren muttered. She was somewhat confused by these revelations, but with the confusion came a much stronger sense of determination. She knew what she had to do now. She didn't know why, but those pages were the key to success, and she intended to obtain all of them. "F" had also referred to the faceless monstrosity as "The Keeper", whatever that was supposed to mean. As she pondered this new information, Lauren realized something; she'd seen that signature before. It was the same one from that letter left in her apartment. "This "F" must be the one who slashed my tires too," she thought. "They were trying to protect me this entire time… If only I'd listened…"

However, despite her fear, she knew in her heart that even if she'd been told exactly why coming to Oakside was a bad idea, she still would've done it. Her friends needed her, and she wasn't going to let them down. Lauren glanced at the note in her hand again, well aware that it wasn't one of the pages she needed. She had a hunch that "F" was risking a lot by relaying this information to her, so she decided to do them a favor. She crumpled up the note and chucked it into the fire. As soon as the thing was reduced to ashes, the fire extinguished itself, leaving only glowing embers. It was almost too coincidental. Lauren had a feeling that the fire was created by "F" as both a beacon and a way to destroy the evidence. Unfortunately, the feeling of warmth and comfort vanished with the fire, and that familiar chill returned as the darkness closed in on her.

She made her way to the storage yard, and thankfully, it wasn't too hard to traverse. The fourth page was easily found as well. It'd been attached to some old boards rested against a large crate. The phrase; **"Help Me" **was written frantically on it. _**"****Four of Eight,"**_ the voice rang out, growing increasingly agitated. After taking the note, Lauren started seeing The Keeper far more often than before. It just stood there… watching… waiting for her to slip up. She was forced to look away whenever she caught sight of Him, as those awful symptoms would immediately start coming back. She wasn't sure why The Keeper affected her camera in such a profound way either, but she wasn't about to go ask Him about it.

Lauren's situation was looking better every minute. She now had half of the pages she needed, and finding them had hardly been a challenge. That lowly drone was still going strong, but she managed to ignore it for the most part. As she walked, Lauren came across a large crevice in the ground that was pretty close to the storage yard. It was fairly deep, and it's interior walls were made up of stone. She knew how easy it would be to get cornered in there, and decided to just avoid it altogether. Going inside would have been a waste of time anyway since it didn't appear to lead anywhere.

However, she still had her suspicions about the strange formation and decided to walk along the edge instead of actually going inside. Surprisingly, following the crevice actually led her to a different area of the park. Thankful that she'd trusted her instincts, Lauren continued onwards, eventually coming across another landmark. It was another storage yard, and the only difference between this one and the previous storage yard was that it was larger, only contained Kullman property, and wasn't roofed.

Unfortunately for Lauren, there was one huge difference. There were no pages to be found, no matter how many times she searched the place. She must have inspected every inch of the area at least five times, and still came up empty-handed. She was extremely irritated by the setback, and in her frustration, made the mistake of letting her guard down. She felt a sudden temperature drop and looked up from a crate, only to be ambushed by The Keeper. The same, horrible headache from before came back, and her nose started dripping blood once again. She ran from the storage yard just before His tentacles reached her.

Branches and twigs scratched her face and roots frequently tripped her up as she ran through the trees. After the ambush, Lauren had been left with no option other than to run directly into the woods. Thankfully, she happened to be going in the right direction. After suffering varying degrees of abuse from the thick vegetation, she finally arrived back on the main path… right in front of another landmark. A blue and white outhouse stood just off of the path, right next to the woods. Shining her flashlight on it revealed yet another page. This one featured a few sketches of trees, as well as one of The Keeper. Taking the fifth page triggered the next stage of the twisted game, as well as a voice announcing; _**"Five of Eight."**_

The lowly drone was gone, and was replaced with something that sounded slightly less disturbing, but was far more effective. A heavy wind swept through the forest, chilling Lauren to the bone. The trees creaked and cracked in the tempest, their leaves falling rapidly. If The Keeper could do things such as alter the weather, as well as what she'd already witnessed… then what else was He capable of? She could only begin to imagine the disturbing possibilities, and the more she thought about it, the more paranoid she got. She started sprinting down the path once again, trying to avoid looking into the woods.

She was freezing cold. Her jacket was useless against the unnatural, frigid air. Her hands were numb, and the wind stung her eyes. Lauren could see her breath in the air, and her nose was running like a faucet. She shivered uncontrollably, her shaky breaths very much audible. She wanted to stop, to seek shelter from the harsh weather… maybe even build a fire. But Lauren knew she couldn't stop, and the only way to stay warm was to keep moving. This was all part of His game. He wanted her to be weakened… to fall into his grasp. She wasn't going to let that happen.

The path went up another hill and led to an abandoned jeep. Disturbingly, the vehicle was still running, even without the keys in the ignition. The faint hum of the engine was barely audible, and the dim headlights did little to illuminate the trees in front of it. Lauren had no idea who it belonged to and honestly could've cared less at this point. The only thing that mattered was the page that read; **"Leave Me Alone" **attached to the driver side window. She took it without hesitation, stuffing it in her pocket with the others. _**"Six of Eight."**_ Lauren noticed The Keeper watching her from the nearby trees, and was forced to retreat once again. She hated having to run away from her foe but had no other choice.

Lauren had been navigating dirt trails, abandoned buildings, and storage yards for most of her time in the park, but now she was presented with something different. Directly ahead was a large, open field filled with grass and weeds nearly as tall as herself. Just as the trail came up to the field, she noticed a large, wooden, roofed sign on the border of the woods and the field. The sign featured an oversized map of the park, and a large sketch of The Keeper was drawn on it in what appeared to be charcoal. Most importantly, however, was the page attached to it. This one was a bit more ominous, as it read; **"Always Watches, No Eyes"**. There was a large circle drawn at the center of the paper with two exes on either side, meant to represent The Keeper's lack of eyes. Taking the note triggered the final phase, and a very irritated voice announced; _**"****Seven of Eight."**_

The frigid wind picked up, and unlike the previous ambiances, rather than replacing the last one, the new noise just joined in with it. As if the wind hadn't been chilling enough on its own, this noise certainly completed the atmosphere. It could only be described as a strange audio frequency with a haunting "breathing" noise towards the end of the loop.

In that exact moment, The Keeper attempted to ambush Lauren once again and appeared right in front of her. Thinking quickly, she started running before His influence could even affect her. However, she glanced over at the field and noticed a small hill at its center. An old, rusted water tower stood at its top, practically begging her to check it for a page. However, The Keeper was guarding the tower, unwilling to let Lauren have an easy victory. Cursing to herself, she prepared to make her move. Ignoring the horrible migraine that was now forming, she sprinted towards The Keeper, jumping to the side at the last possible moment to avoid his awaiting grasp and writhing tentacles, and ran as fast as she could towards the water tower.

Lauren's lungs were burning from the combination of frigid air and intense physical activity. It seemed that all of the running had finally caught up with her, but no way in hell was she going to slow down. She could see the final page, but even more prominent was the horrible sound of tentacles slithering towards her. She ran even faster, faster than she'd ever run before. She was steadily getting closer and closer to her objective. Her vision was getting blurry, the tentacles were right behind her, the camera was freaking out again, and the only thing she could hear was a horrible shriek ringing in her ears. _**"****Eight of Eight,"**_ a disappointed voice said.

It was over. Lauren clutched the final page in her hand, hardly caring about its ominous message; **"Don't Look Or It Takes You"**. The Keeper was nowhere to be found. All of the sounds had stopped, the night air was slowly returning to its normal temperature, and the peaceful sound of crickets chirping and owls hooting could be heard again. Lauren was doubled over on the ground, heaving and gasping for breath. She could feel tears of joy and relief running down her face. She'd finally won.

She slowly managed to regain her composure, standing back up with a huge smile on her face. She saw no danger in taking her time now, and headed back through the field at her own pace, hoping to find a way out. Then, it happened. The horrible chill suddenly returned, and she felt a cold, bony hand grasp her shoulder. That was when Lauren finally lost it. She bolted through the field like a madman without the slightest idea of where she was going. She could barely see because of her horrendous migraine, barely hear over the horrible screeching. She could only think of one thing; getting far away from that monster. That's when the teleportation started. One minute she was in the field, the next she was running through a storage yard, and it didn't stop there. She was taken to the beach, the crevice, the Information Centre, and so many other locations. It happened so many times she lost count before it finally stopped, leaving her at the opposite side of where she'd originally entered the field.

The trail went up another hill, but she didn't care. Lauren just kept running, gasping for air. All she could make out was what was directly in front of her, and a sea of black tentacles engulfing the entire park. They came from the darkness, the woods, the very earth… eager to ensnare her. Then, she saw another abandoned car at the top of the hill, and a low point on the wall of stone beside to it. Without thinking, she climbed on top of the car and hauled herself up onto the platform. It was her only chance. Unfortunately, she failed to notice the massive drop on the other side before it was too late.

When Lauren hit the ground, her legs gave out, causing her to slam into the ground at full force. The impact managed to shut off both her camera and her flashlight, leaving her not only immobilized but blinded as well. Her whole body ached, and she couldn't even stand up. The Keeper would surely find her there, and she'd be easy prey. She could feel tears running down her face. After everything she'd been through, after all that effort, she was just going to die anyway. Then, just as that thought crossed her mind, something unexpected happened. The silhouette of a man appeared a few feet in front of her and slowly approached. At first, she thought he was the one from the Information Centre, but she quickly realized that this was someone else entirely. The glowing pinhole eyes were a dead giveaway. The man knelt beside her, just studying her for a moment.

Lauren almost considered asking him to make her death quick and painless, before seeing a toothy, glowing grin manifest on his face. This was much different than the other guy's smile. This one felt warm and caring. He made a "shushing" motion and reached out to her. Lauren noticed a glowing eye set in the palm of his hand just before he touched her forehead. She immediately felt drowsy, and her world quickly faded to black as she entered a deep sleep.


	5. Into the Abyss

The sun shone brightly on the vast landscape below, showering it in its golden brilliance without interruption, as there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Birds chirped happily as they soared through the air and perched on branches, sometimes flying to the ground to search for food. A light wind swept through the area, blowing leaves off of trees and bringing a slight chill to the warm air. Nearly concealed by the tall grass was a young woman, who was slowly waking up from her deep sleep. She groggily opened her eyes and sat up, squinting against the bright sunlight. She was still in the field from the previous night, and it was 11:00 in the morning according to her watch.

As Lauren's vision cleared, she got a better view of the area. The field stretched far and wide and was mostly surrounded by a natural wall of stone. Beyond the top of the stone wall was a sprawling landscape filled with trees, which she quickly realized was where she'd jumped from the previous night. To Lauren's left was nothing more than tall grass and the stone wall. The rest of the field was dotted with trees, mostly pine and cedar, but also a few others like oak and maple. There were also several large landforms consisting of stone, one of which was directly ahead. Beyond that was an even larger landform, and beside it stood a small building atop stilts.

Lauren was glad to be alive, but she was confused as to why The Keeper hadn't just killed her in her sleep. Her best guess was that the tall grass had hidden her from Him. Still trying to make sense of it, she suddenly smelled something burning. She turned around and discovered that only a few feet from where she'd been laying was a small, makeshift fire pit containing little more than ashes and smoldering embers. It appeared that the man who'd come to her rescue before had built a fire to keep her warm during the night. As Lauren pondered this, she noticed a plastic shopping bag placed in the grass. It contained three different items; a bottle of water, a few granola bars, and a note that read; **"Thought You Could Use This" ~F**. Something finally clicked and she realized that this "F" character was the one who'd saved her the night before. Lauren still wasn't quite sure if she fully trusted the guy, but he had saved her life, and it appeared that he'd tried to help Kate as well. That had to count for something.

Cautiously, she began to eat, quickly losing her fear and finishing off the granola bars. The water didn't last very long either. It was good to know that she had some supernatural help in all of this... it made her a bit more optimistic about her odds of survival. Despite all of this, Lauren knew that she was going to suffer a lot more before things got better… if they ever did, that is. She could accept that because now she had a fighting chance. Sighing to herself, she began to wonder if she'd ever make it out this isolated place alive and see her friends again, or if she was doomed to die at the hands of a monster. Lauren pushed that last idea out of her head. She found it best to avoid morbid thoughts like those.

She'd momentarily panicked when she realized that her camera and flashlight weren't with her, but relaxed when she saw them placed neatly by the fire pit, undoubtedly by F. There was also the fact that she no longer had the pages with her. It didn't take long to figure out where they went, as there were still some charred scraps of paper left in the fire pit. Why had F burned them though? Kindling maybe? Lauren didn't know, and she didn't particularly care. She was slightly annoyed though. She'd gone through hell and back to get those damn things.

She returned to worrying about her main task; finding Kate… and Carl as well, if he was indeed with her. That phone conversation with him didn't seem so cryptic anymore. She tossed the leftover trash and F's note into the fire pit and proceeded to retrieve her belongings. The camera and flashlight still worked fine, but both had lost a significant amount of battery life. The battery icon on the camcorder's screen indicated that there was roughly half of it left, and the flashlight was beginning to dim as well. Lauren sighed in frustration and began walking towards the stilted building.

The building was surprisingly small and made mostly out of sheet metal. The stilts it stood on were little more than weathered boards, and the building itself wasn't in the best shape either. The door and windows were boarded up, and most of the metal siding was rusted and corroded. There were also a couple of metal barrels laying around, coated in rust. Between the building and the stone landform ahead of it was a dirt road. It stretched around the landform and continued onward out of sight. From where Lauren stood, it was impossible to tell where the portion of the path heading to her right led to, even after climbing the building's rusted metal stairs. Its destination was obscured from view by the stone landform and the green surplus of trees. However, the portion of the path heading in the opposite direction had a clearly visible destination. It led to a rather large chain-link gate and stretched far beyond. Knowing that the stilted building was a dead end, Lauren decided to inspect the gate.

As she neared the gate, she came to realize that the dirt trail she walked on was merely a smaller section branching off from the main road, which cut directly through the center of the field and was much wider in comparison. A small, worn down shack stood on the opposite side of the road. Its walls appeared to be made from concrete and the shingles on its roof were heavily decayed. Even the chimney pipe was covered in rust. Lauren heard the sound of leaves rustling coming from her right and glanced over, assuming it was a squirrel or something. However, what she saw in the distance took her breath away. The dirt road led straight to an enormous tunnel dug into the side of one of the mountains, and a large service yard had been built around the outside of the facility. "Whoa… is this the Kullman Mine?" Lauren wondered aloud, glancing at the glowing red beacon high above on the mountain range.

She had no doubt in her mind that this was, in fact, the Kullman Mine, especially since two of the company's storage yards were within Oakside Park. A quick glance at the gate told her that she wasn't going to be getting through. It was locked up tight, and any hope of climbing it was extinguished by the wicked barbed wire at its top. Lauren slowly began to realize that she was going to have to enter the mine whether she liked it or not. She could feel fear welling up inside her and decided to delay the inevitable for as long as possible by checking the abandoned shack for signs of Kate's whereabouts.

To her disappointment, the building's only door was boarded up, and surprisingly, its windows were still intact. However, they were far too old and grimy to actually see through, meaning that Kate hadn't been in there either. Finally deciding to face her fears, Lauren slowly walked toward the mine, glancing up at the radio tower once again. She vividly remembered Kate's bizarre drawings. According to them, that's where Kate was headed. "I wonder if she and Carl went through the mines to get there," Lauren wondered. "If so, there must be an elevator or something inside." As she pondered this, she stepped forward onto the cracked cement flooring of the service yard. The yard was actually pretty small, only consisting of the cracked flooring, some pipes and barrels to the left, some crates scattered around the area, and what looked like storage lockers to the right. A tall chain-link fence stood beside the pipes and barrels, making a half-barrier between the service yard and the wilderness.

The exterior of the mining complex was constructed from gray bricks and almost looked like a fortress. The tunnel was even bigger up close, and a massive nameplate just above it read; "Kullman Mining Company, 2253". As Lauren was coming up to the entrance, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. A weather-beaten billboard was still attached to the side of the nearest storage locker, and a tattered piece of paper was pinned to it. She took a moment to read the document in its entirety;

_ATTN: All Employees_

_After closing this Sunday, your paychecks_

_will be mailed to your home address that we have_

_on file for you. Please see Jessica in the office if_

_you have changed your address recently. Otherwise,_

_you will not be able to receive your final paycheck._

_We would like to thank all of you for your many_

_years of dedicated service to Kullman Mining and_

_wish you the best of luck in all of your future en-_

_devors._

_-Management_

Lauren quickly forgot about the notice and made her way to the mine's entrance. The ominous tunnel was pitch black, save a small amount of sunlight that managed to illuminate the floor a few feet beyond the doorway. As she stood there gazing into the abyss, she felt a wave of intimidation like never before wash over her, making the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Taking a few deep breaths, she entered the mine, walking around the surplus of barrels and crates scattered about the hall. The entire structure was made of concrete except for the cement floor, and surprisingly, it seemed to be holding up well, especially since the place had been abandoned for just over ten years now. The ceiling of the hall was arched, which may have had something to do with that. Upon reaching the end of the tunnel, Lauren discovered that it was a dead end, and only led to a concrete wall. Groaning in frustration, Lauren was just about to turn around when she noticed a metal door on the right side of the hall, near the back.

The door led to an elongated room with a chain-link fence cutting off half of it for storage. Lauren immediately noticed a small metal sign attached to the fence, and shone her flashlight on it so she could read it;

**WARNING**

**KULLMAN MINING**

**IN THE EVENT OF A SUDDEN POWER LOSS**

All employees must be removed

from the mines via emergency

lifts as soon as possible.

To power the lifts, please activate

the emergency generators

throughout the ground level of the

complex. Six generators are the

minimum required to power the lift

at full capacity. Please see your

supervisor if you need help

locating them.

"God I hope those generators are still here," Lauren muttered. "Then again, the generators still being here is one thing, but them actually working is something else entirely… I guess we'll find out soon enough." She returned to investigating the room, discovering that there was some kind of control console hugging the left wall of the room. Unsurprisingly, it was inactive and looked like it had been that way for a long time. Seeing that there was nothing else of importance in the room, Lauren headed through the door at the other end, taking her first look at the facility beyond. In her amazement, she failed to notice the door closing behind her. When she heard it slam shut, followed by the click of its lock, she knew there was no turning back. Trapped, and with no other options, she trekked onward into the darkness of the Kullman Mine.

The short hall she'd entered led to an enormous area that resembled a warehouse more than it did a mine. The ceiling was so far above that her flashlight's beam struggled to illuminate it. There were several doors and pathways branching off from the main hub, and a chain-link fence was blocking off a wide hall directly ahead. However, all of the doors were sealed, and the fence actually had wheels. A metal catwalk hung high above the ground and a plentiful amount of crates, barrels, and other equipment was scattered across the room. The elevator shaft was in plain sight and was much larger than Lauren had expected it to be. Surprisingly, it really wasn't much more than a lift with a frame of steel beams encasing it, making it easily accessible from most sides, even though the actual entrance was on the right. In the midst of her thoughts, something just in front of the elevator caught her eye; a small yellow generator emitting a faint red glow. She had no clue how the thing still had power, but remembering the sign from the control room, she decided to switch it on.

As Lauren approached the generator, her flashlight illuminated a bunch of chalk arrows drawn on the floor. They were all pointing towards the lift, and after shining her flashlight towards it, she discovered even more arrows drawn on the wall at the back of the lift, but now they were pointing upward. As if that wasn't enough evidence that her friends had been in the mine, the small, empty, red gas canisters scattered on the floor beside the generator confirmed it. Lauren finally felt a spark of hope inside her, and an intense feeling of determination burned within. When she finally reached the device, she discovered that the red glow was coming from a circular light panel on the face of it, and the switch to activate it was on the top of the machine. She switched the generator on without hesitation and the light shifted from a dim red to a bright green. Loud metallic clanking, the whir of engines, and various other noises echoed throughout the mine as it sprang to life. A fair amount of lights turned on, and all of the sealed doors slid open, except for the one Lauren had come through. Even the fence slid out of the way, carried into its new position by its wheels and opening up the dark hall ahead. However, the lights that turned on were dim and didn't do very much to illuminate the place, but they were bright enough for her to see the layout of the room without a flashlight.

She heard a slight "ding" and noticed a small console on the lift light up. Upon closer inspection, she discovered that it had multiple switches and dials, but one large, orange button stood out. This was obviously the button that would raise the lift, and Lauren decided that the others were best left alone. Hoping for the best, she hit the button, but nothing happened. "Dammit, it can never be easy, can it?" she mumbled, realizing that she was going to have to search the entire mine to find the other generators. That's when she noticed a glass panel on the console that contained six small light bulbs within. One was glowing green, and the rest were red. "One down, five to go," she said.

As Lauren observed more and more of the facility, she noticed something familiar. Kate had written more panicked phrases on the walls in chalk, phrases such as; "_Get To The Tower"_, "_Need To Get Out"_, and multiple writings of the word "_No"_. As Lauren looked over these writings, she suddenly felt a chill run up her spine. It felt like she was being watched. She whipped around and pointed her flashlight into a dark corner of the room, only to find nothing there. Starting to panic, Lauren ducked into a doorway to her left and continued down the hall it led to, well aware that if there was something lurking in the mine, all of the noise had just alerted it to her presence.

Luckily, the only thing the hallway contained was lockers and busted lights. It didn't go straight for very long before turning right, revealing a fence set up against the right wall. However, this one was wide open, and inside was the second generator. "This is actually pretty easy," Lauren commented. She switched it on and kept moving, trying her best to ignore the loud noises that resulted from it. She soon came across one of the hall's exits, one that led right back to the foyer. However, the hall continued forward as well, and so did she. Eventually, it led to a large storage room filled with shelves and crates, as well as some metal stairs leading up to the second floor of the mine. Knowing full well that something could easily sneak up on her in that maze of equipment, she decided to play it safe and took the stairs to get a better view of the area.

The room's second floor wasn't nearly as large as the rest of it. All it consisted of was a concrete balcony overlooking the storage area, two small side rooms, and another hallway leading further into the mine. Looking for the dim red glow of an inactive generator yielded no results in the storage area, but there was a clearly visible red light shining through the doorway of one of the two side rooms. Lauren smiled to herself as she turned the generator on. She'd been in this place for maybe twenty minutes and had already activated half of the generators she needed to escape. Just as that optimistic thought went through her head, she heard an animalistic screech ring out from deep within the mine. It was a horrible noise that stripped away her courage and sent goosebumps up her arms. Several more of the screeches echoed throughout the dark halls, followed by the rapid sound of shoes hitting concrete. Lauren wasn't alone, and something was closing in on her.

A terrible thought went through her mind as she listened to the footsteps grow closer and closer. "Oh god, what if this is that thing from the burned house?" she whispered, terrified beyond belief. The Keeper was one thing, but this creature was a whole different kind of threat. It wasn't patient like The Keeper. It was ferocious, hungry for blood, and it was coming. Seeing no other option, she ran back down the stairs and into the hall to the right, desperately hoping that the creature would be attracted to the hum of the generator and that it wouldn't be smart enough to turn it off. As Lauren ran, the ghastly screeches and howls increased in frequency and kept getting closer and closer. She turned a corner to try and put some distance between herself and the monster but was cut off by the sight of something sprinting straight towards her. It wasn't the monster from the house either… this was something entirely different.

It was definitely human, even though those noises said otherwise, and based on its figure it appeared to be female. She wore blue jeans, tan tennis shoes, and a white hoodie with the hood pulled over her head. Her clothes and hands were plastered with soot and dried blood. Her face was hidden by some kind of white, plastic mask that was nearly obscured from view by her long, matted, black hair. The creature screamed even louder when it spotted Lauren, and bolted towards her. She finally snapped back to her senses and attempted to run, but it was too late. The feral woman pounced and tackled her to the ground, pinning her down. Lauren's equipment flew out of her hands, but the flashlight's beam angled itself just right to illuminate her assailant's masked face.

Her screeching and growling filled Lauren's ears as she beat on her and clawed at her face. She was powerless to do anything about it, but thanks to the flashlight, she got a better look at her. The woman's skin was deathly pale, and she was wearing a red shirt under the hoodie. The mask appeared to be slightly melted and burned in places, and there was a fair amount of soot on it, but there was a much larger amount of it around the eyes and the rectangular hole near the mouth. Lauren looked into her eyes and saw nothing but madness, but in a way, they almost looked sad. Then, for some inexplicable reason, she stood up and dashed away, retreating into the darkness. The woman had done some damage, giving her a bloody nose and a black eye, as well as various other injuries. Her own blood was splattered all over her face, and it stained the cement floor a deep shade of crimson. She spat out the blood in her mouth and retrieved her equipment, running in the opposite direction that the woman had gone. Lauren had no idea who she really was, and didn't want to find out. Whoever she'd been before was gone, and all that was left was an empty, rage-fueled shell. All that was left was The Chaser.

The feral screams and rapid footsteps of The Chaser echoed throughout the mine, seemingly everywhere, unable to trace. Being unable to tell where it was coming from was extremely unnerving, but after some quick thinking, Lauren had come up with a way to defend herself. The Chaser had clearly been in the mine for a while, so her eyes were probably sensitive to light. Her flashlight's default setting didn't affect The Chaser, but she was able to focus the beam into a smaller, much brighter version of it. As she ran through the dark halls of the facility, a terrible thought crossed her mind. "What if that blood on The Chaser is Kate's or Carl's?" she worried. "No, don't think like that, Lauren. Just keep moving." In the process of running through halls and checking rooms, she stumbled into the main hub once again.

She'd ended up in the hall behind the chain-link fence. It was cramped due to the large amount of crates and equipment within. Suddenly, she heard something chilling… absolute silence. The Chaser was obviously still searching, but now she was going about it stealthily. Lauren had no way of knowing where she was, and that terrified her. After managing to navigate through the crates, she came across two more halls; one branching off to her left, and one to her right, both heading straight and leading to the same general area. She chose the right hall, as there were multiple side rooms in it, unlike the left hall, which had none. However, her choice didn't seem to matter at all because none of the rooms had a damn generator in them.

The hall led to a large room filled with boxes, crates, pipes, and a couple of what appeared to be small industrial fans. A short distance to the left was the staircase that the other hall led to, but most importantly, an inactive generator stood near the left wall of the room, along with some boxes and other equipment. Just as Lauren was about to turn it on, she noticed another red glow far to the right. It was coming from a side room in the third (and final) hall that led into the foyer, the one that had been directly to her right upon entering. She decided to activate that one first, so she'd only have to worry about going in one direction afterward instead of two. Listening intently for the Chaser, she made her way into the hall. There was a variety of equipment scattered around, including a small forklift and a few lockers. The hall had multiple side rooms, but only one had a red glow coming from within, and it turned out to be a restroom. It was a strange place for a generator, but she could've cared less. She switched it on and quickly returned to the other generator, activating it immediately. That was five, just one more and she was free.

Just as Lauren was about to ascend the stairs, she heard a noise coming from behind her. Knowing full well that it was The Chaser, she turned around, prepared to test her flashlight theory. However, she hadn't been prepared for what was actually there. Yes, The Chaser was present, but she was in a hunched position as if ready to strike, and she wasn't alone. The Keeper himself loomed over her, with a skeletal hand placed on her shoulder. That's when it all made sense. The Chaser wasn't just some random psychopath living in an abandoned mine, she was a victim of The Keeper, driven insane and transformed into a mindless slave. No sooner had the thought gone through Lauren's head, than The Keeper had released His grip on The Chaser. She sprang forward, screeching eagerly, but Lauren was ready for her this time. She focused her flashlight's beam on her face, resulting in The Chaser screeching in pain and jumping back, covering her eyes. Just as Lauren took off, she noticed that The Keeper was watching her with His head tilted, as if intrigued by what she'd done.

The stairs to the second floor led to another area resembling a large concrete balcony, and steel pipes stuck out of the floor as well as more fans. The Chaser had since recovered and was hot on Lauren's tail, screaming in rage. She stopped regularly to stun her with her flashlight before continuing on. Taking the hall to the right led her to the sixth and final generator, which was located in a small alcove that was partially blocked off by a fence. She excitedly activated the generator and heard a faint "ding" come from the foyer. After stunning The Chaser again, she ran onto the catwalk and peered over at the lift. Sure enough, all of the red lights had turned green, and the orange button that activated the lift was lit up and blinking.

The Chaser had managed to close in on Lauren thanks to her quick pitstop. She needed to put some space between the two of them before trying to stun her again, or the woman would undoubtedly catch her. She sprinted down the catwalk, making it nearly halfway across before being interrupted. With a thunderous roar, The Keeper appeared in front of her, tentacles erupting from His back and writhing in the air. Before Lauren could recover from the shock, she felt The Chaser attack her from behind. Her equipment flew out of her hands again, with the camera landing at The Keeper's feet. Her flashlight wasn't so lucky and went careening over the side of the catwalk.

Lauren was powerless to stop The Chaser's assault once again. She felt herself slipping in and out of unconsciousness during the attack before her assailant finally sprinted off in the direction they'd both come from. She forced her eyes open and realized that one good thing had come out of the attack; The Keeper was gone. Looking over the side of the catwalk showed that her flashlight was miraculously still working. "Finally, some good news," Lauren managed to choke out. The mine was dimly lit thanks to the generators, so she could still see, but now her only defense against The Chaser was out of reach.

Still battered and dizzy from The Chaser's latest assault, Lauren made her way to the end of the catwalk. It turned out that the path led back to the first storage room that she'd come across. She slowly made her way down the stairs, trying to be stealthy, only to be met with an unpleasant surprise. The Chaser sprang out of hiding from behind a crate and attacked yet again. It was her third assault that finally broke Lauren. After she was gone, she simply crouched on the ground, coughing up blood and trying to stay conscious. She couldn't take any more. One more attack like that and she was as good as dead. She grabbed her camera and limped into the hallway, paying little attention to The Keeper watching her from the storage room. Fortunately, she managed to make her way into the foyer without incident and retrieved her flashlight.

Barely conscious, Lauren finally stumbled up onto the lift, slamming her hand down on the orange button. It began to ascend, ever so slowly. After a few intense moments, of listening to loud footsteps rapidly growing closer, the lift finally shot up, ascending at a rapid pace. A quick glance down bestowed a chilling sight; The Chaser standing at the base of the lift, glaring up her would-be victim. She'd been so close to death and never even realized it. She felt sick, and thankfully, the disturbing sight was cut off as the lift went higher and higher.

The lift finally reached the top of the elevator shaft, revealing another hallway. Lauren could've cared less where it had taken her, as long as it was away from those monsters. As she stumbled off the lift, the beatings she'd sustained finally caught up with her, and she collapsed onto the cold hard ground, falling into unconsciousness.


	6. Fresh Air

It was several hours later before Lauren's eyes finally blinked open. Everything was blurry and a throbbing headache clouded her thoughts. She groaned in pain as she sat up, waiting for her vision to return to normal. Her entire body ached, and dried blood still clung to her face. She wiped the offending substance off of herself, muttering a few obscenities as pain shot through her head with every touch. A few minutes later, she pulled herself up off the ground, grabbing her equipment afterward. "Where the hell am I now?" she grumbled.

She stood in a long rectangular hallway, only a few feet away from the lift that had saved her life. The entire thing was made of concrete, and the floor was cracked and splintered. Built into the walls and ceiling every fifteen feet or so was a red, metal, rectangular arch that helped support the roof, and both sides of the hall had two dim lights set into the walls. Numerous pallets were leaned against the concrete walls, and a surplus of wooden crates crowded the area. Two wooden pallets sat on the floor only a few feet away from the lift, and both of them were stacked with bags full of concrete. Lauren didn't take much time to absorb her surroundings and flicked on her flashlight, limping down the hallway. She reached a point where the hall took a sharp turn to the left, and her eyes widened at the welcome sight ahead; bright sunlight.

Ignoring her injuries, she sprinted toward the hall's exit, ecstatic to be free from the horrors of the Kullman Mine. As she neared the end of the hallway, she could hear birds chirping indignantly as a strong gust of wind blew through the trees. She excitedly turned her flashlight back off, taking a deep breath of relief as she finally stepped out into the wilderness. Squinting in the bright sunlight, Lauren smiled at the beautiful mountain range before her. The vast landscape was covered in dark green grass and dotted with trees, and the easily traversable hills stretched far into the distance. Lauren flopped down in the grass almost immediately, letting the bright sunlight warm her skin and enjoying the refreshing scent of the forest. She laid there for a good half hour without a care in the world, figuring she deserved a break after that nightmare in the mines.

It was peaceful there. There were no nasty surprises waiting around corners, no eldritch abominations lurking in the trees, and no psychopaths running around in masks to ruin her relaxation. Unfortunately, Lauren knew that she couldn't stay long and begrudgingly stood back up, ready to continue her journey. She made her way down the grassy hills of the mountain range, stopping every so often to take in more of the scenery. She eventually stumbled upon a makeshift dirt trail heading straight and decided to follow it from that point forward. It didn't take long for the trail to stop abruptly at the edge of a steep cliff, only to change direction and continue onward, heading along the side of the mountain. However, the trail was the least of her worries at the moment. Beyond the cliff was a breathtaking sight.

The pine forest was far below; an endless expanse of trees stretching for miles, as far as the eye could see. Streams and rivers, large and small, ran through the seemingly endless expanse of woodland. The mountains in the distance towered over the vast landscape, the bright sunlight casting a golden glow upon them. The bright blue sky was clear, with only a few puffy white clouds spread out across it. The birds chirped and chattered along with the other creatures of the woods, enjoying the warmth of the sun, all while a pleasant breeze blew through the area, carrying with it some stray leaves and the smells of the forest. It was beautiful.

She stood there for quite some time, awestruck at the natural beauty before her, making sure to get it all on camera. This was one of those places you'd never want to leave after seeing, and Lauren was tempted to stay there forever. When she finally managed to force herself into continuing down the path, she made sure to stay near the wondrous sight, hardly ever taking her eyes off of it as she walked. Due to her amazement, she nearly missed something peculiar placed in the middle of the path, just barely catching it out of the corner of her eye. Rested up against a tall pine tree was an old, tattered teddy bear. Clearly, it had been there for a while, judging by its rough condition, but it made no sense for it to be there. "What's a teddy bear, of all things, doing out here?" Lauren wondered. Trying to understand why the toy had been left in such an isolated place, she reached out to touch it, hoping to find a name or some other identifying feature on it. However, as soon as she made contact with the stuffed animal, a terrible migraine pulsated through her head.

Lauren immediately dropped her equipment and fell to her knees, clutching her head in pain. It felt like her brain was crawling out of her skull. She could feel tears running down her face, and her vision was heavily blurred. That's when she heard the whispers. There were so many voices, all of them speaking in some haunting, unintelligible tongue… perhaps they were speaking backwards. The whispers steadily grew louder as Lauren's world faded to black. Just before she lost consciousness for the third time that day, she noticed something ominous about the teddy bear. There was a faded name inscribed across its torso; _Charlie._


	7. Memories

_It was August 3rd, 1996, and several families were taking advantage of a beautiful summer afternoon by relaxing at one of Oakside Lake's many beaches. There wasn't a cloud in sight in the bright skies above, and the refreshing breeze coming off the water helped to keep the beach-goers cool. Everyone there had their own way of enjoying the warm weather; some swam in the calm water, some lounged in beach chairs, and some made sand castles, as well as taking part in numerous other activities. Several sailboats could be seen off in the distance, trailing lazily through the water while seagulls flew overhead, cawing loudly and swooping down in search of food._

_A man and a woman sat in front of a small cabin atop a grassy hill, preparing a picnic and discussing their lives as their six-year-old son built sand castles near the water. He had several toys scattered about, including his beloved teddy bear, which was propped up against a large rock beside him. The boy's parents, Charles and Diane Matheson, were discussing a wide variety of topics; including Charles' recent promotion at the Kullman Mines, Diane's newfound pregnancy, and even simple things like the beautiful weather. To top it all off, today was their son's sixth birthday, and they could think of no better way to celebrate than by having a family picnic at the beach, which they were just about to sit down to. Diane cheerily called out to her son while spreading a blanket; "Charlie, lunch in five!"_

_Charlie stood up, brushing his hands off on his bathing suit. "Okay mommy!" he responded. The boy surveyed the toys he had out in the sand, quickly coming to the conclusion that he didn't want to clean them up, as he intended on returning after lunch was over. Just as he started heading toward his parents, he caught a bright glint of light out of the corner of his eye. A short distance down the beach, near an old rowboat, something shiny was half-buried in the sand. "What is that?" he wondered, walking toward the mysterious object. As he neared the light's source, Charlie was surprised to discover that it was a section of his toy train that had gone missing a few days prior. Confused, he picked the toy up and looked it over, but almost immediately noticed a second glint of light coming from further down the beach._

_"Be careful near the water, Charlie!" his mother called out, unaware that her child was getting further and further away from his parents. As Charlie made his way across the beach, the nearby trees to his right were quickly replaced with a large outcrop of stone. The crystal clear water of Oakside Lake rested to the left, creating a small, sandy trail. The train segment was located at its center, at the top of a small rocky ledge. Charlie pocketed the object, only to be met with the sight of another train piece sparkling in the sunlight, further down the beach. This one was placed so close to the water that he was afraid it would be swept away by the waves. As he gathered the third train segment, Charlie thought hard about this bizarre series of events, trying to understand what was going on. Then, the boy grew excited as he realized what was happening; Mr. Slim had set up a scavenger hunt for him. This wasn't the first time his tall friend had done something like this, and Charlie loved playing his games. His parents thought that Mr. Slim was imaginary, but Charlie knew better. Mr. Slim was his friend, and he was as real as anyone else._

_"Charlie, lunch!" his mom called, but he paid no attention to her and eagerly continued down the sandy path, over another rock ledge. It was here that the boy reached the end of the beach, finding that there was little more than mounds of stones ahead, and to his right was a sandy hill leading up and into the forest. The fourth train piece was half-buried at the hill's base and was easily retrieved by Charlie, who stuffed it into his pocket with the others. Suddenly, he heard the concerned voices of his parents calling out to him; "Charlie…? Do you know where he is?" Diane asked her husband._

_"He's fine, he's down on the beach," Charles replied._

_"Where did he go?" Diane wondered aloud._

_"Where is he?" Charles asked, realizing that Charlie was nowhere to be found._

_"Where are you? Charlie, where'd you go?" Diane called out, growing fearful._

_"Charlie?" his father called out._

_"Where are you, Charlie?" Diane yelled, frantic with worry._

_Charlie knew he wasn't supposed to be out this far, and felt bad for making his parents worry so much, so he decided to retrieve the fifth and final piece of his train, say hello to Mr. Slim, and head back to his family. After all, it's not like he could get in too much trouble on his birthday. Realizing that the only place left to look was in the forest, Charlie made his way to the top of the hill, discovering that the forest floor was far below. The other side of the hill was too steep and rocky to climb back up, but he knew that Mr. Slim would surely give him a lift if he asked for one, so he wasn't worried._

_However, there was something about the forest that gave Charlie a feeling of uneasiness. An eerie fog snaked through the trees, and there was no animal life to be found, not even a single bird. Against his better judgment, he jumped down to the forest floor, feeling the long grass tickle his bare feet. He discovered that the final segment of his train had been placed atop a large rock, and even though he collected it, he was far more concerned with his current surroundings. The strange mist had become unnaturally thick, covering the blue sky in a smoky white sheet. The light wind barely managed to rustle the grass and trees, and Charlie could've sworn he was hearing an odd, creepy ambiance and the occasional, distorted sound of wind chimes. He felt stupid for entering the forest wearing only his bathing suit, as the twigs and pebbles on the ground hurt his feet. The air had also become unnaturally cold, chilling him to the bone and making his skin crawl._

_Charlie felt a deep sense of dread creeping up on him. He shivered violently as he walked through the trees, waiting for his faceless friend to show up and ease his fears. "Mr. Slim?" he whimpered, hoping for a response. The only answer he received was the faint sound of drumbeats ringing in his ears. The child's heart was filled with fear, and as he fearfully crept through the area, he was struck with the realization that there was no exit no matter where he looked, only walls of stone. His parents were practically screaming for him now, and Charlie knew he was going to be in a lot of trouble once he got back to them, but surely Mr. Slim would do his best to help him out. Maybe he would even explain the situation to his parents? Unfortunately, Charlie knew things weren't going down that way as soon as he saw the tall man standing menacingly in the fog._

_He should've felt comforted… this was his friend, right? No, Mr. Slim no longer looked friendly at all… he was terrifying. He loomed over the poor child, enjoying his victim's terror as a swarm of black tentacles erupted from his back and snaked towards the boy. Charlie screamed as loud as he could and ran back in the direction he'd come from. "Mommy, Daddy! Help me!" he called out, charging through the forest. His parents had always told him not to talk to strangers… and he should have listened._

_When Charlie finally reached the rocky hill he'd entered the forest from, he began clawing at it, doing everything in his power to bypass the obstacle, but it was to no avail. Soon enough, his struggling form was ensnared by the tall man's tentacles. They began wrapping him up in a cocoon of darkness, quickly encasing the child. As Charlie used his last breath to let out a strangled cry for help, he dimly heard his father desperately screaming his name as the tentacles wrapped around his head. Then, his world went dark and he knew no more._


	8. Moving Forward

"So that's what happened to you…" Lauren muttered, staring into the beady eyes of the teddy bear as she sat cross-legged in front of it, nursing a migraine. It was no longer a surprise to her that an innocent child had lost his life to an abomination he'd thought of as a friend, and on his birthday too, nonetheless. After everything she'd witnessed since arriving at Oakside, she was far more accepting of this paranormal plague. However, the knowledge of Charlie's demise still made her seethe with rage, and she wanted more than anything to watch The Keeper burn for the atrocities it had committed. She didn't know how or when she would be able to achieve that goal, but she was eager to see it through. Shrugging off her headache, Lauren got back up on her feet, retrieved her equipment, and took one last look at the teddy bear before continuing on her journey, more determined than ever to beat her enemy at its own game. However, one thing still gnawed at the back of her mind; the camera had kept running during her blackout, but instead of simply recording the grass where it landed for the duration of the event, the footage it'd captured consisted of black and white static as well as continuous white noise, all while a garbled, barely audible sound reminiscent of a voice played in the background.

The foliage steadily grew thicker and the ground became rockier the further down the path she hiked, and before long she found herself heading downhill toward a dark cave in the mountainside. Her newfound courage began to falter as she stared into the rocky abyss before her, remembering the hell she'd been through in the mines. "No, I'm not going to let a little cave scare me off," Lauren proclaimed after a few moments of hesitation. She took a few deep breaths to prepare herself for the potential nightmare within and looked off into the distance to be calmed by that same beautiful view from before. This time, however, she was shocked at what she saw. The sun was much lower in the sky than it had been when she was put in that trance by the bear. Confused, she glanced at her watch to see that it was now 5:30 in the evening. "Oh man, how long was I out for?" she stammered.

Taken aback by the fact that she'd been unconscious for at least three or four hours, she decided to take a minute to check her footage for anything unusual, as the camcorder had been running the entire time. Sure enough, there was a small but noteworthy amount of footage on the tape; consisting of the recording being overcome with static as Lauren touched the bear, briefly cutting to a black screen, and the image returning just as she woke up, the intense static quickly fading away. Intrigued by her findings, she was half tempted to look over the rest of the footage for similar anomalies but ultimately decided not to, remembering just how time-sensitive her mission was and getting back to the task at hand. As she resumed recording and finally reached the mouth of the cave, she discovered that old, wooden support beams were firmly locked in place at the entrance, and were strategically positioned throughout the cave to keep it from collapsing in on itself. Then, as she switched her flashlight on and prepared to enter the darkness, she felt something crunch beneath her foot. She looked down to see the crushed remains of a road flare, and a fresh looking one at that. Her eyes widened as she realized what that meant.

"So, those two managed to make it out of the mines… I knew they had it in them," Lauren thought with a grin. Even with her superhuman strength, The Chaser shouldn't have posed much of a threat against the two of them combined… if they'd figured out her weakness, that is. Full of newfound optimism, Lauren stepped into the cave, being pleasantly surprised with just how small it actually was. While the interior of the cave was rather wide, the path through it was a straight shot to the other end. She barely even needed her flashlight, as rays of bright sunlight shone in through the holes and cracks in the ceiling, causing small patches of grass and weeds to sprout up in the dirt floor. It was honestly more of a passage than a cave, and she reached the other side quickly and without any complications, finding that it opened up into a small, grassy clearing. Just ahead stood a two-story metal building wedged between the stone walls of the mountain range, blocking the way. It was old, degraded, and looked like it had been abandoned for many years. As Lauren approached the open door, she caught something disturbing out of the corner of her eye. A torn piece of notebook paper was stuck to the front of an exterior power breaker, and scribbled all over it in black ink was the phrase; _"I Want To Die"._

Lauren tore the paper off of the breaker and crumpled it up, casting it aside into the tall grass. She didn't know who was responsible for leaving it there, and she didn't want to. She flicked her flashlight back on as she entered the dark building, finding that it consisted of only one large room. It was cluttered with cardboard boxes, metal barrels, a few lockers, and a couple of shelves with wooden planks leaned up against them. There were even a couple of storage containers stacked on top of each other, and on the other side of the room, an empty green dumpster stood to the right of another door. To her dismay, that very door was the one she needed to leave through. It was secured by a rusted padlock, meaning she wasn't going anywhere unless she could find a way to bust it open. On the wall to the left of the door, illuminated by a wall mounted light that somehow still worked, was a chalk drawing of the radio tower, accompanied by a crossed out sketch of The Keeper. As Lauren looked for something to break the lock with, her gaze fell upon two desks placed to the right of the dumpster. One of them held an old television that was hooked up to a VCR, and the other held something far more intriguing.

Resting atop the table were two videotapes. One was strangely labeled, featuring a drawing of The Keeper standing between two pine trees, and the other was labeled "Matheson Farm", and was placed on top of a brown paper folder that had the word "Homestead" written on it. Lauren immediately gravitated toward the latter of the two and its accompanying folder. After so many years of hearing ominous references to that place, she was finally going to know what happened there. She eagerly plugged the TV into an outlet and turned it on, ecstatic to find that it actually worked. After checking over the building one last time to make sure it was safe, she shut and locked the door she'd entered through to keep out any unwanted visitors. On her way back to the TV, Lauren found an overturned desk chair and dragged it over with her, ready to finally get some answers. However, she decided to open the folder before watching the tape, finding that it only contained an ominous, printed out email;

* * *

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co**

**From: <unknown sender>**

**Sent: #####{$InvalidTimeStamp}#**

**Subject: RE: You’re not going to believe this**

**Attachments:**

Kate,

I've been doing some digging and came across an old plot of land

that belonged to the Matheson family a ways back. Charles was

known to take his wife, Diane, and his son, Charlie to the old

homestead for family picnics.

I never imagined what I would see there. I think Charlie may have

seen something. Something he… was never meant to see.

Enclosed is a recording of my findings, and some documents I

came across. We're dealing with something dark here, Kate…

something I can't explain.

-CR

* * *

It was an understatement to say that Lauren was unnerved by what she'd just read. From what the email implied, Carl's actions at that farm might have been what brought The Keeper into his and Kate's lives, and by extension, her own as well. As troubled by that prospect as she was, she couldn't bring herself to blame Carl for what was happening to them. He'd had no way of knowing that trying to help a broken family would unleash an eldritch abomination, but try as she might, Lauren couldn't push away the thought that all of this would never have happened if Carl hadn't gone to that farm. She was feeling significantly less excited about watching that footage now, but she needed to know what really happened there. Reluctantly, she inserted the tape into the VCR and took a seat, watching nervously as the image of a country road appeared onscreen.


	9. Homestead

A storm of dust followed an old 1983 Dodge Aries as it sped down a country road. Potholes threatened to knock the vehicle’s tires loose, and a coat of grime was quickly covering its rusted white paint. The trip was recorded in near-silence by a camcorder placed on the dashboard, the only audible sound coming from the car itself. The air was thick with tension, and the hands that gripped the steering wheel were white-knuckled and rigid. After some time, the anxious driver flicked on his turn signal and pulled into the driveway of an old farmstead; one that had been abandoned for generations. The man behind the wheel got a much better view of the estate as the road shifted downhill, his paranoia steadily growing as he drove through the rotted remains of a white fence gate, coming closer and closer to the end of the path. Then, at long last, with a deep, fearful breath, he brought his car to a stop and put it in park, taking a few more moments to enjoy the safety within. He then picked up his camera and retrieved a black backpack from the passenger seat before exiting the vehicle, leaving the keys in the ignition and shutting the door behind him. The wind did little to help with his already messy, short black hair, and his dull green eyes grew increasingly uneasy with each passing second. His raggedy jeans and brown hiking shoes failed to retain much warmth, but fortunately, the dark gray Carhartt sweatshirt he wore did a much better job of protecting him from the elements. Crouching down to the ground, he began speaking to the camera as he went through his bag; “The date is September 19th, 2007. My name is CR, on site of the Matheson family farm, continuing my investigation in Charlie’s disappearance. Let’s see what we can turn up…”

He continued rummaging through his backpack, checking to make sure he had everything he needed. “Ok, I have my water bottles, survival knife, first aid kit, extra batteries, and… shit, I forgot the damn flashlight!” he berated himself, furious that he’d forgotten to bring something so vital. “I shouldn’t have even come out here this late,” Carl mused, nervously glancing upwards. Fiery orange and hazy red cascaded across the heavens like spilled paint on a canvas, accompanying the eventide glow over the desolate landscape. It was early autumn, meaning the air was crisp and the trees were turning various shades of red, yellow, and orange. “Not much I can do about it now,” he grumbled, sheathing the knife and looping it through his belt before putting on the backpack; “I just wish I could’ve afforded a camera with night vision.” After surveying the area for a few minutes to get his bearings, he decided to investigate the farmhouse before trying to get at anything else, and as expected, the place was in complete disarray. A rugged cobblestone wall that nearly came up to Carl’s chest worked in tandem with an old wooden fence to create an enclosed pathway to the front door, but neither of the barriers were in the best condition. A fallen tree blocked off the path’s actual entrance, but another one had been made by a huge hole in the western section of the wall. The rest of the structure was crumbling as well, and the battered fence barely managed to keep the path separate from the backyard anymore. Every window on the weathered, stone brick house was boarded up, and the grass was so unkempt that even the few blades that stuck up through the path’s sunbaked dirt practically came up to his waist… and that was just the exterior.

An eerie creak rang out as the front door slowly swung open, revealing ruined furniture, peeling green wallpaper, and layers of dirt and dust coating everything. The only source of light was the dim rays of sunlight shining through the open door and the gaps in the boarded windows, and as Carl’s eyes adjusted to the darkness, he grew surprised at just how well the building’s structural integrity had held up after all these years. Despite how trashed the interior was, there wasn’t so much as a single collapsed wall or caved-in ceiling… not even a board had fallen from a window. The investigator started to feel uneasy as a strong gust of wind blew across the landscape, rustling the trees and making the house creak and crack, but he wasn’t going to chicken out just yet. He had a job to do, and he intended to see it through to the end. Now that his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, he inspected the room, immediately noticing that the doorway to the right was also boarded up, making straight ahead the only way to go. The only furniture left in the room was a weathered old dresser and a small wooden table with a tattered sheet of paper placed on it, which was yellowed with age and barely legible;

* * *

_ Rose,  _

_ We’re going into the cellar tonight for _

_ another game of Hide and Seek! Father _

_ won’t return from his errand to Red Deer _

_ until the morning and Norm says he found _

_ a lantern so he can take us there after dark _

_ if we all meet by the chapel after tonight’s _

_ dinner. I know you hate the rancid smell of _

_ petrol down there, but it’ll be fun! _

_ I promise! _

_ ~Maggie _

_ P.S. Don’t tell Patty. She’ll tell on us. _

* * *

“Awesome, the first lead I find points me toward a cellar of all places… Seriously, why is there always a cellar? Nothing good ever happens in those things,” Carl complained, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “Then again, the chapel might be worth checking out too, and those don’t exactly have a great reputation either, given the context.” Wanting to gather any evidence or clues that he came across, he slipped the letter into his backpack and headed deeper into the house, entering a small bathroom and exiting into a short hallway before coming upon a dead end; a room about as large as the first that held ruined furniture, another boarded up door, and a stone fireplace filled with ash that was spilling out onto the wooden floor. The room appeared to contain nothing more until further inspection revealed an open hatch in the ceiling on the end of the room opposite the boarded door. Carl could just barely make out what appeared to be a charcoal drawing of a tree scratched onto the wall above, but nothing else. “Well, it looks like there’s nothing left to see in here except for the attic… I’ll have to find a way up there later,” he mumbled, retracing his steps and leaving the house. After taking one last look around the exterior, he decided to investigate a nearby barn, as it was the only other area he could really get to, courtesy of the barbed wire fences spanning the property. As he made his way over, he caught a glimpse of two massive silos peeking out over the top of the structure from a short distance away. 

If the farmhouse was the ghost of its former self than the barn was a worm-eaten corpse. Decayed boards and corroded metal littered the ground, threatening to drive a nail or spike through a foot with one misplaced step. Century-old equipment was scattered about, some of it half buried in the dirt. The only remaining equipment even remotely intact consisted of several wooden barrels, the remains of a horse-drawn wagon, and some sort of wooden lift that was stocked with crates and hooked up to a pulley system. Carl was amazed that the barn was even standing, and could hardly shake the thought of the whole thing collapsing on him with the slightest gust of wind. At least half of the structure had rotted away or been destroyed by the elements, and all that remained was a wooden skeleton just barely holding itself together. It seemed as if every other board in the building had vanished without a trace, and entire sections of wall were missing near the ceiling, leaving plenty of open space for sunlight to shine through. To make matters worse, the building’s only exit, the one that led to the other side of the fence, was blocked by the lift. However, before Carl even had the chance to get frustrated, he took a closer look at the lift’s pulley system and saw that it was connected to a rusted chain that snaked up to the ceiling and ran through the rafters into another room. He noticed an empty doorframe below the chain’s terminus and stepped through into a small, disheveled side-room with a staircase leading up to a second floor. Most notably, however, was a cluster of broken junk near the back of the room that just happened to contain a circular wooden table with an aged piece of paper placed on top of it. Carl made his way over to the paper and discovered it to be the artwork of a seemingly disturbed child. A tall stick man with long arms and a black tie stood inside of a burning barn alongside several other clearly distraught stick figures, and on the bottom right corner of the paper was the signature;  _ Charlie _ .

“I have no idea what this drawing is supposed to represent, but I think it goes without saying that it’s really creepy… Hell, I should probably hold on to this since it helps support my theory of this place having something to do with Charlie’s disappearance,” Carl narrated, proceeding to store the paper in his backpack. With nothing left to see downstairs, he ascended the staircase and observed the loft it had brought him to. Other than a crate and a couple of barrels, the only things that stood out were a hand-crank that the chain was being fed through and a concerningly large amount of flammable liquid containers, consisting of gasoline, bleach, kerosene, and lighter fluid. To say that it looked suspicious was an understatement once that drawing of the flaming barn was taken into account. Now with a million different theories running through his head, Carl made his way over to the crank and gripped the handle with both hands, turning it with all of his might to make the lift ascend. After a painstakingly long amount of time spent fighting against its weight, a sharp click rang out as the lift locked into place, finally leaving the exhausted man with a proper exit. Panting heavily and wiping sweat from his brow, he stumbled down the stairs and made his way under the lift and out the door just in time. The immense weight of the lift and its cargo proved to be too much for the corroded chain, causing it to snap and drop 150+ pounds of equipment right behind the man who’d lifted it. “Fucking hell!” Carl shouted, jumping from the loud crash. His stomach churned when he turned around and saw what nearly killed him. “That was way too damn close… definitely shouldn’t have trusted something that old,” he gasped, physically shaking from his brush with death. He regained his composure after several minutes, only to realize with despair that he was trapped. The barbed wire fences that ran through the homestead separated the property into several different sections, and unfortunately for him, he was stuck in one with no direct exit. Even more unfortunate was the fact that the fences were severely rusted, which meant that he couldn’t simply suffer being sliced up in order to escape due to the high likelihood of contracting tetanus. He had no choice but to look for another way out.

Directly ahead were the silos that he’d seen before, only now he could see that a small barn was built around the two of them as well. An old generator that looked like it’d seen better days sat in the grass next to an empty doorframe, and the barbed wire fence brushed up against both ends of the building, effectively using it to help seal off several different sections of land. As Carl neared the barn, he noticed a yellowed sheet of paper stapled to the outside wall;

* * *

** _REMINDER_ **

_ All wheat and barley _

_ should be stored in a _

_ sub-terrain cellar for _

_ cold storage. _

  * __Wheat can be stored up to nine months__  
__pending moisture.__
  * _Dry grain should be taken to the__  
__cellar immediately for winter storage._
  * _Cooling the grain ensures insects remain__  
__dormant and minimizes mold grow._

* * *

Upon reading the sign, he came to the realization that the building was actually a granary, which explained the silos. Still desiring to gather evidence, no matter how insignificant it appeared to be, he ripped the paper off of the boards and stuffed it in his backpack. He decided to take a look inside the granary despite the fact that it was pitch black inside, and it was then that he remembered what Maggie’s letter had mentioned; the cellar was stocked with gasoline. If he could get that generator running, it would make getting through the granary much easier. It wouldn’t be easy getting the petrol from the cellar, but it was the only option he had other than feeling his way through the building. With his mind made up, he went to take a closer look inside the barn before leaving, which is when a low growl filled his ears; a warning to back off. Carl immediately stepped back out into the open and the growls ceased. “Stupid-ass animals must’ve made themselves at home,” he grumbled; “Maybe getting those lights on will scare them off.” Growing more frustrated by the minute, he made his way toward an old tool shed, one that appeared to act as a gate between his section of the farm and an overgrown crop field. Little did he know, the creature lurking within the granary wasn’t an animal. A malformed, primitive humanoid peered out at him through a gap in the boards as he left the scene, waiting for him to enter the field before beginning its silent pursuit.

The shed contained nothing of interest, only broken shelves, discarded tools, and rusty chains dangling from the ceiling. Carl passed through it without incident, ending up at the beginning of a rugged dirt path that wound its way through the field. The wheat and barley had grown so wild over the years that the plants towered over the man standing in their midst, and even the invasive weeds participated in obscuring his vision to the point where he could only see the sky, the distant mountains, and a handful of landmarks. Far to the left and beyond the fence an old wooden windmill sat atop a hill, still creaking and turning in the wind, shrouded in the shadows cast by the setting sun. A ways to the right, the top of a small building peaked out over the thick vegetation and a strange monument stood tall on a hill nearby. Before Carl could do so much as wonder what the two structures were, the sound of rustling weeds hit his ears. He unsheathed his knife and spun around, but found nothing. “Must have been a rabbit or something,” he said, doing his best to swallow his fear. He was regretting coming to this place now more than ever, knowing full well that a sound like that had come from something much bigger than a rabbit. He forced his legs to move forward, clutching his knife with white knuckles and eventually reaching a crossroads. A tall wooden post stood at the center of the intersection, adorned by three arrow-shaped signs nailed to the side of it. Each one pointed in a different direction, and all three were labeled with faded white paint. The one pointing toward Carl simply read;  _ ‘Granary’ _ , while the one pointing in the direction of the building and monument read;  _ ‘Chapel’ _ . However, it was the title of  _ ‘Cellar _ ’ on the third sign that gave him chills.

“Nope… not yet,” he mumbled, taking the path to the chapel. Further ahead, the trail broadened at the base of a small incline, parting the tangled mass of weeds and revealing a spiked metal gate. It was remarkably sturdy, and in a fairly decent condition considering how old it was. The trail ran under the gate and through an old boneyard, diverging near the base of a small hill and leading up to its peak, where the monument Carl had seen earlier stood ominously; a tall tombstone with a triangular tip pointed at the heavens, the stone it was carved from faded and cracked with age. The original path led to an eerie chapel that loomed over the graveyard, its age showcased by the state of disrepair it had fallen into. The entire area was choked full of weeds, most of which were dead or dying. The only sign of healthy plant life was a lone willow tree to the left of the chapel, and even that looked ancient. Ignoring the goosebumps forming on his arms, he approached the gate but groaned in frustration when he noticed the rusted padlock sealing it shut. Like the gate it was chained to, the padlock appeared to be remarkably sturdy, and was extremely unlikely to be broken or forced open. Not wanting to impale himself trying to scale the blockade, he finally accepted the fact that he had no choice but to enter the cellar. The farm was creepy enough on its own, but the idea of wandering blindly through a cramped, underground maze filled his heart with dread. 

After a last-ditch, unsuccessful attempt to pry the lock open with his knife, he backtracked to the signpost and took the last path. “Well, even if I don’t find the gate key in this deathtrap, at least I can pick up some gas,” Carl narrated. Truth be told, he hoped to god that the key wasn’t hidden away somewhere in the cellar. He wanted to get in and out of that place as fast as possible, and searching for a key in the dark would prevent him from doing so. Best-case scenario, the key was somewhere in the granary or the area beyond it… That idea alone may have been the one thing that kept him motivated to enter the subterranean nightmare. The glare from the setting sun shone in his eyes as he reached the end of the path, passing through a wooden gate that separated the field from a grassy stretch of land. The old windmill was much closer now, and unlike before, its rotting boards and rusted nails could be seen clearly. Its remaining blades rotated slowly in the wind, rattling like they were one strong gust away from falling off. However, the structural integrity of some random windmill was hardly a concern to Carl, who was growing more nervous by the second as he hiked up the area’s gradual incline. Finally, he reached the wide-open cellar door and gazed into the labyrinth below, his heart pounding in his chest. Gripping his knife tighter than ever before, he took slow, shaky steps down the creaky stairs.

By the time he reached the final step, the foul aroma of mildew was already making it difficult to breathe. The damp cellar reeked of decay, and the entire place was flooded with murky heel-deep water. The floor, ceiling and most of the walls were made of concrete, but some had been constructed with cobblestone. Rust and scum crept down the walls, and black mold grew on the wooden support beams. The place was eerily silent except for the sound of dripping water echoing throughout the dark passages. A sense of impending doom filled Carl as he stared into the abyss ahead; it was like nothing he’d ever felt before, and he hoped dearly that he’d never feel it again. He was alone in the dark, and not even the evening sun could help him now… but then he saw it; fastened to the western wall was a breaker panel, bronze in color and sporting minimal rust. “I guess it’s worth a shot,” he said, walking over to the object, cold water beginning to soak into his shoes. “Please don’t electrocute me,” he whimpered, then flicked the power switch. With a low hum, the cellar sprang to life for the first time in over a century. Gradually, the light bulbs hanging from the ceiling began to activate, their dim, milky white glow struggling to illuminate the cramped halls, flickering at irregular intervals. Sometimes they’d stay on for only a moment, other times for quite a while. One minute the nervous investigator would be able to see clearly, and the next he’d be engulfed in darkness, fearful that they’d turned off for good. “It’s better than nothing,” he muttered, happy that he wouldn’t have to feel his way through the darkness. The cold, musty air hadn’t exactly helped his nerves to begin with, but now there was the constant threat of being stranded in the dark to pick away at his bravery. Slowly, he made his way deeper into the cellar, listening to the hum of the breaker grow faint.

Carl crept through the narrow halls, doing his best to ignore the eerie sights and sounds from all around him. He stuck close to the eastern wall, as you would in any maze, in order to keep his bearings. Every step that he took echoed across the maze and the constant buzzing and flickering of the lights struck at his nerves with every passing second. He moved when the lights turned on and froze when they flickered off, terrified of what he might see when they came back on. It made the job take longer than he would’ve liked, but that was much more preferable than staggering around in the dark. After turning a couple of corners, he reached a crossroads; The path ahead led to another turn, but a hallway that branched off to the left led deeper into the darkness. It took him about two seconds to make a decision, and keeping to the right proved to be more beneficial than expected. He stumbled across a small side-room that branched off to the right of the original hallway just before turning the corner, and ducked into it hoping to find some fuel. The flickering lights were quickly becoming more of an annoyance than a source of anxiety, as they consistently halted his progress every fifteen seconds or so, but he soldiered on nonetheless. Unfortunately, the room contained nothing more than barrels, woven baskets, and rotting shelves. “Of course there’s nothing here, why would it be easy…” he mumbled. That’s when his search was interrupted by a haunting sound, one that sent chills down his spine and made his skin crawl; a child’s giggle.

“Oh fuck this, I’ll take my chances with the barbed wire,” Carl gasped, taking off toward the hallway. As he neared the doorframe, the lights flickered off and a wave of terror surged through him as he caught a glimpse of a dark, twisted figure running through the hall; headed in the direction he’d come from. He let out a horrified gasp and backed against the wall, brandishing his knife as his eyes involuntarily began to water. All of the stories he’d heard about this place were true, and his stomach churned when he finally registered the fact that something was hunting him. “I’ve gotta be the biggest fucking dipshit on this goddamn planet for coming here,” he snarled. The last thing he wanted at that moment was to venture deeper into the maze, but since that thing was lurking in the direction he’d come from, backtracking wasn’t an option. Cautiously, he exited the room, resuming his trek through the darkness with his knife held in front of him, ready to strike. “I really should’ve brought a gun,” he whispered, “Hindsight’s a bitch.” Timing his steps with the unreliable lights, Carl continued making his way through the twisting and winding corridors. It was in the next room that he came across, one filled to the brim with rotting shelves, that he found what he was looking for; a slim, red gas canister, placed beside a barrel. Thankfully, it was tall enough to hold a decent amount of fuel, while still being light enough to carry more than one canister in a hand. He was extremely thankful for that, as he was well aware that one canister wouldn’t be enough to power the generator for very long. After a few moments of finicking with it, he managed to pick up the canister in the same hand that held his camcorder and continued down the path. It was just before he turned the next corner when the second giggle hit his ears and sent another row of goosebumps down his arms. The lights were beginning to flicker more and more, signifying that they wouldn’t last much longer. Finally, he reached the next corner and took the turn, but froze when he caught sight of the abomination standing at the end of the hall.

The wraith stood motionless in the shadows with its head crooked to the side… watching… waiting. Its pale skin was tinted a sickening shade of light blue and was stretched so tight over the remaining muscle that the creature was nearly skeletal. Its rib cage, femur, and several other bones were clearly visible under its malnourished physique, and its bloated stomach looked as though it was ready to burst. A tattered loincloth, or perhaps the shreds of a bathing suit, hung around its waist, but it wore no other clothing. The creature’s arms bent at odd angles, and its bony fingers looked as if they were made for tearing flesh. Its thick, mangy, black hair hung down over its twisted face, and its eyes had been violently gouged out, leaving only dark, gaping sockets. Its lower mandible was completely missing, leaving an old, nasty wound to take its place, and rotting teeth adorned a lipless upper jaw. The thing might have been human once, but that time was long ago, and this creature was long dead… or perhaps undead was a better word for it. Whoever this person had once been was gone, and all that remained was the decaying husk of what once was. Each breath it took sounded agonized, and the putrid smell of dried blood and rotting flesh it gave off mingled with the damp, musty air of the cellar.

Carl stood frozen, paralyzed with fear as he locked eyes with the monster. Whatever he’d imagined about this place, whatever stories he’d heard, the truth was so much worse. “Stay back,” he pleaded, shaking violently as he brandished his knife at the beast. It gave no response, standing motionless as it studied the intruding investigator. Carl’s quivering quickly became so violent that he lost his grip on the knife, and to his horror, the weapon fell from his hand and hit the floor with a loud clang. It was then that his worst fears came to fruition as the lights flickered off again, leaving him blinded. What only lasted for a few agonizing moments felt like hours of pure terror. He wanted to scream… to call out for help… but he knew no help would come, and his cries would undoubtedly bring the creature’s wrath down on him. So he stood there in silence, holding his breath and straining to hear any unfriendly noises. Then, to both his relief and horror, the lights flickered back on and the creature was gone… but so was his knife. “Son of a bitch…” he gasped, taking deep, ragged breaths to steady himself. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to think about what just went down… not until he escaped from this hellhole. Reluctant, but determined, Carl crept down the hall to where the monster had stood only moments ago, discovering another side-room nearby. A grin spread across his face when he caught sight of the gas canister set beside a rotting shelf, but when he entered the room to claim his prize, he noticed something interesting; a worn leather-bound book resting on the bottom shelf;

* * *

_ Granny Richter’s _

_ Big Book of Stories _

_ Volume 1 _

* * *

The golden inscription on the book’s cover was chipped and faded but still legible. Remembering why he’d come to the godforsaken farmstead in the first place, Carl snatched the book off of the shelf and crammed it into his backpack without so much as glancing at its contents. Now without a weapon, he used his empty hand to carry both canisters, more thankful than ever for their slim proportions. It was when he turned to leave the room that he noticed the crude illustrations of a child drawn near the base of the western wall. The artwork had been sketched using different colors of chalk and consisted of several stick figures, the sun, and a few random scribbles. Despite the fear he was currently experiencing, an overwhelming sense of sadness washed over Carl the more he stared at the drawings. The thought of a child wasting away in this terrible place was bad enough on its own, but the addition of a malevolent zombie hunting them through the maze made it all the more horrifying. He prayed that he wouldn’t find human remains anywhere in the cellar, for that would surely be his breaking point. Once his thoughts were finally gathered, he hesitantly made his way back into the hallway. Fortunately, no ambush awaited him, but every now and then he’d catch a glimpse of the gaunt figure watching from the shadows. It was eerie how it simply stood there and observed his movements, its raspy breathing mingling with the sound of dripping water. Eerier still was how it would appear and disappear with the flickering of the lights, making it impossible to tell when and where it would show up next.

Following his own rule and keeping to the right, Carl weaved his way through the labyrinth, eventually stumbling across a third side-room. Unlike the others, this one contained nothing of importance; only baskets, a chair, and more shelves… or so it seemed at first glance. When he turned to look in the direction opposite the shelves, his gaze fell upon a strange symbol taking up most of the concrete wall; two intersecting eyes in the shape of a cross made with chipping white paint. “What the hell is that?” he wondered aloud, making sure to get the symbol on camera. He approached the painting and ran his fingers over it, but not a single flake fell from the wall, much to his surprise. Even when he tried scratching some of the ancient material off, it resisted his efforts. “Huh… weird…” he whispered, intrigued by the anomaly before him. It was then that an all too familiar giggle raised the hairs on the back of his neck, reminding him of the situation he was in. Carl immediately attempted to leave the room, only to shrink back from the doorway as the twisted creature ran by… headed in the same direction he was going. He realized with horror that his stalker was intentionally blocking his path; meaning to drive him back into the depths of the maze like it was some kind of demented game of hide-and-seek. To turn back now would certainly mean death, as he’d either get lost or endlessly run into the same situation until the creature grew tired of him and ended the game. The terrified investigator mustered all of the courage he had left and continued down his original path, fully expecting his next step to be his last… but that never happened. As he made his way through the final expanse of hallways, the creature never made another appearance. Not even its breathing was audible anymore, which worried him that his adversary was closing in for the kill. However, before his fears had the chance to come true, he turned the final corner and at long last spotted daylight. Without a moment’s hesitation, he raced up the old wooden steps and slammed the cellar door shut before collapsing in the grass, thankful to be alive. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before a new discovery interrupted his attempts of avoiding a nervous breakdown; No longer did a beautiful sunset reign dominant, for an eerie mixture of light purple and deep blue stained the heavens with a disturbing aura. The mountains far off in the distance no longer glimmered golden-red in the evening sun but instead loomed dark and ominous against the horizon. “How long was I down there?” Carl wondered, concerned by the sudden change in scenery.

The fact that he was still in danger wasn’t lost on him, and after making sure the cellar door was latched he rushed over to the one he’d originally entered and sealed it, hoping to trap his undead stalker within. Afterward, he wasted no time in beginning the trek back to the granary, but realized that something was amiss as he passed by the gate; a low sound hit his ears, one similar to the buzzing of cicadas, but much more… artificial. The sound steadily increased in volume, drowning out all others and rendering one of his most vital senses useless. Carl’s heart pounded as he realized that his efforts in sealing the cellar had been in vain, and upon reaching the crossroads, he caught sight of a patch of weeds rustling as something within them rapidly approached his position. This proved to be his breaking point, and without hesitation, he ran down the granary path like a madman, miraculously managing to avoid stumbling on the stringy roots sticking out of the dirt. The makeshift cicada song grew louder and louder with each passing second, and it was taking every ounce of willpower that he had to not drop to the ground and cover his ears. He took a moment to peer over his shoulder and search for the unseen assailant, and when he saw the thick net of crops beginning to part just behind him, he charged forward faster than he ever had before. Then, the mass of crops and weeds finally opened up to reveal a familiar old shed, and he bolted through the open doorframe and hid behind a decrepit wall, standing as still as a statue as the earsplitting buzzing finally subsided.

After waiting for a few minutes, Carl succeeded in catching his breath and took a cautious look back at the field. His blood ran cold when he saw the mangled face of the cellar ghoul glowering at him from within the mess of weeds… but that was all it did. It made no attempt to pursue, threaten, or even respond to his presence. No… this was a warning; one final chance to leave its home and never return. The creature evidently came to the conclusion that the intruder recognized its warning and slunk back into the thick vegetation, disappearing from sight. The man in question let out the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding and exited the shed, heading toward the granary while keeping an eye on the field in case the beast changed its mind. On the way back, he finally registered that the knife his grandfather had given him for his birthday was lost forever, and mentally scolded himself for letting his nerves get the better of him. Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks, glancing from the empty sheath on his belt to the rusted barbed wire fence. His face contorted into an exasperated expression as he finally overcame the mental blockade that prevented him from leaving the farm long ago; “Why didn’t you just cut the damn wire, Carl? Intellectual of the motherfucking decade right here,” he cursed, his face physically growing hot the more he thought about it. “Stupid goddamn bullshit…” he ranted, throwing his gear to the ground in front of the granary and pacing in the grass, taking deep breaths to calm himself. “Don’t be stupid… there’s nothing you can do about it now anyway. Losing your head in a place like this is going to get you killed,” he told himself. That was another thing; the mortal danger he was in didn’t seem to be bothering him nearly as much as it should’ve been. Perhaps it was a combination of shock, survival instinct, and an adrenaline rush, but something was keeping him from dwelling on the dire circumstances of the situation. Once he’d sufficiently calmed down, Carl realized that he couldn’t leave the farm even if he was able to… not without finding answers. He remembered the promise he’d made to Charles Matheson Sr. like it was yesterday; “I’ll find out what happened to your son no matter what it takes,” he’d said, “I’ll make sure you can rest easy someday.” He may have made that promise to a fresh mound of dirt and a tombstone, but it was one he intended to keep nonetheless. With a newfound determination, the stubborn investigator reclaimed his gear and approached the granary. “Me and my damn mouth...” he muttered, emptying the contents of the gas canisters into the generator’s fuel intake.

Praying that his efforts hadn’t been in vain, Carl flipped the generator’s switch and held his breath. With a low metallic whir, the ancient machine sprang to life, vibrating and rumbling where it sat. The lights within the building slowly activated, and much to his excitement, they stayed on. There was no flickering or long stretches of darkness like he’d experienced in the cellar, but a constant dim glow to offer a sense of security. Then, the sound of feet hitting stone rang out as the building’s inhabitant fled the scene. Of course, Carl knew by now that the only ‘animal’ living in the granary had been the cellar ghoul, but that raised the question of how it’d managed to get back inside from the field. Almost immediately, his question was answered by the sound of barbed wire rattling, bringing him to the conclusion that the creature either couldn’t feel pain or simply chose to ignore it. Eager to finish this investigation from hell and go home, he entered the granary at long last, immediately noticing the constant creaking that the ancient structure emitted. The passage was slim and choked full of barrels, forcing him to take extra time to weave through the obstacles. When he finally turned the corner he came upon a more open area where both silos stood partially enveloped within the granary. It was hard to tell if they’d been constructed with the intent of making movement around them easier, or if they were simply so deteriorated that a passage had opened up directly through the center of the structures. Dim evening light shone in through their cracked tops, but it wasn’t nearly enough to light up the place as efficiently as the generator. Even if the light had been bright enough to do the generator’s job, only the silo standing at the direct center of the granary would’ve stood any chance of being beneficial. The other silo stood half embedded in the leftmost side of the building and showcased a familiar symbol.

Drawn in charcoal on the concrete floor and illuminated by a dim beam of sunlight was the same suited, faceless stick figure that Carl had seen previously on Charlie’s drawing of the flaming barn. He made a mental note of this peculiar stick figure, as this was the second time the thing had made an appearance during the investigation. After a brief moment of contemplating its meaning, he weaved his way through the rest of the granary, only stopping to take a look at another clue; Balanced atop two barrels was an aged drawing of a family picnic on the farm, undoubtedly portraying Charlie and his parents on one of their retreats. The only thing the depiction was missing was the boy’s signature, as well as the suited man. Carl didn’t give much thought to the drawing and stuck it in his backpack as he stepped out of the granary and into the grassy, uneven area beyond. There wasn’t much to be seen in the fenced-off yard; only a handful of trees, one of which held a battered old treehouse, a decaying wooden cart with a barrel placed beside it, a rundown shed barely taller than the average man, and the scorched remains of a small barn. Carl’s breath caught in his throat as he realized that those burned remains were likely the result of the fire depicted in Charlie’s drawing, and he hoped that he wouldn’t have to sift through charred bones to find the gate key. He decided to check the barn last since it’d be the biggest place to inspect, and made his way toward the old cart. His search of the decaying scrap yielded no results, and the treehouse was a dead end as well. His next destination was the shed, which surprisingly held something other than rusted tools and empty containers; an old black and white family portrait. Carl blew the dust off of the picture and scanned over the faces featured on it, amazed that the thing was still intact. Everybody in the picture was dressed formally and appeared to be standing outside of a church, and at the bottom of the portrait was a list of their names. In the back row stood a woman and two men; Georgia, Franklin, and James Matheson. The middle row was taken up by two more women, the second of whom appeared to be on the border of elderly; Elizabeth and Frieda Matheson, and beside them stood a young man named Clarence Matheson. Then there was the bottom row, which was entirely made up of kids; the only two teenagers were a pair of girls named Maggie and Rose Matheson, and the others consisted of a girl and a boy no older than eleven; Patricia and Walter Matheson. However, three other people stood in that picture alongside the Mathesons… three that caused a great deal of concern. In the middle row, beside the three Mathesons, stood a middle-aged woman and her husband; Ada and Henry Hayes. What’s more was the presence of a boy in the bottom row named Norman Hayes, who was clearly the child of Ada and Henry. “Holy shit… I know that name,” Carl stammered, and indeed he did, for Hayes was the maiden name of Beth, the mother of Kate Milens.

Now, Hayes wasn’t exactly an uncommon surname, so Carl wouldn’t have given it a second thought had it not been for one tiny detail; Kate had mentioned several years ago that her family originated from Alberta, and that they moved to the United States in the early 1900s. This led him to believe that the three standing in the picture were at the very least distant ancestors of Kate’s, and maybe even direct ancestors. As he processed this revelation, he scanned over the picture once more to verify what he was seeing but discovered something in the process that he’d somehow missed before. Standing inside the church and barely visible through the window was an abnormally tall man wearing a suit and tie. Oddly enough, the man wasn’t listed below with all of the others, and the poor quality of the photograph made it look like he didn’t have a face. At first, Carl shrugged it off, correctly guessing that the man wasn’t intended to be in the picture. As for his facelessness, surely it was only a trick of the light. “Wait… hold on a minute,” he mumbled, a new idea popping into his head. It seemed a little too coincidental that Charlie had been randomly drawing pictures of a tall faceless man in a suit when there was one who appeared in a picture of his ancestors that was taken nearly a century before his disappearance. “Maybe Charlie found this picture and started to draw the guy… or maybe something more than meets the eye is going on around here…” Carl pondered. Normally he would belittle himself for coming up with such an outlandish theory, but after what he’d seen in the cellar, he wasn’t going to argue against the possibility of something supernatural taking place. He almost could’ve laughed at how quickly he’d come to accept the paranormal as real, but the dire circumstances took most of the comedy out of the situation. Growing increasingly uneasy, he folded the picture up and stuck it in his pocket, deciding to mention it to Kate when he got the chance.

He was beginning to lose hope of ever finding the gate key and knew full well that he’d have no choice but to risk mutilating himself trying to climb the spiked gate if it didn’t turn up in the wreckage of the barn. Even if he managed to find the thing, he’d still have to make his way back through the field in order to get the gate open, and considering that it was now openly hostile territory, he wasn’t looking forward to it very much. Dreading what was yet to come, he made his way over to the rubble, finding that the structure’s only remnants were scorched portions of the building’s frame; Several burned boards stuck out of the ground and a handful of plywood panels and wood scraps lay in the dirt, but there was nothing more. The ashes from the fire had blown away long ago, leaving behind only the cold hard ground. Carl took a few steps forward before his shoe collided with something hard, sending it skittering across a panel. He grew nauseous instantaneously, all but convinced that he’d just disturbed human remains. Fortunately, he was able to let out a sigh of relief when he finally worked up the courage to gaze downward, finding that the object he’d just kicked was an old ornate key. The artifact was larger than he’d expected it to be and had a fair amount of weight to it when he picked it up. Its original black color had faded into a dark gray, and its bow consisted of three rings roughly in the shape of a triangle. Aside from some minor discoloration, the key was in such a remarkably good condition that Carl found himself admiring its craftsmanship, amazed at the lack of wear-and-tear. Snapping back to his senses, he stuffed the key into his pocket and nervously headed back toward the granary, glancing out across the field as he walked. That monster was probably watching him at this very moment, daring him to try something. That idea alone made him want to abandon the entire investigation and retreat to safety, but he’d come too far to back down now.

It killed him to backtrack when the chapel was just on the other side of the fence, but it was either face the monster or take on the barbs, and as crazy as it sounded, the monster only had half the chance of ripping him apart that the wire did. It was when he made it halfway through the granary that a new feeling hit him; he felt dizzy, almost as if he’d stood up too fast and all the blood was rushing to his head. He groaned and stumbled backward, catching himself on a decaying board as his double vision returned to normal. “This day just keeps getting better and better,” he commented after coming to his senses. That’s when he noticed something strange; aside from the occasional hooting of owls and the chirping of crickets, everything was dead silent. There was no wind, no movement… nothing. It was as if the entire world was standing still in anticipation of the final act of this escapade. The air had become unnaturally cold to the point that Carl could see his own breath, and he actually resorted to pulling his sweatshirt’s hood over his head to retain some warmth. What’s more is that the dim light bulbs within the granary seemed to take on a deep blue hue, and doused the interior of the building in the sickly color. However, he was greeted with his biggest shock yet as he exited the building; “What in the hell…” he stammered, looking up at the sky in awe. Gone was the protective evening light he’d witnessed only moments before, and in its place reigned the dead of night. A quarter moon shone down on the farm, casting an eerie glow on the landscape as a light fog set in. The navy blue sky was speckled with bright stars, and the distant mountains had been reduced to ominous silhouettes. “This… this doesn’t make any sense…” Carl shivered, glancing at his wristwatch; “A few minutes ago it was only dusk, so how the hell is it past midnight now?” Fearful and confused, he reminded himself that he was still in danger and made his way toward the field, talking to himself as he walked. “Nothing about this place is right,” he said, still eyeing the sky; “It’s not natural… none of it is.” Then, a strange thought entered the investigator’s mind; “It almost feels like I’ve been sent forward in time… Hell, that makes more sense than most of the shit I’ve seen today… and maybe that’s why I got so lightheaded out of nowhere in the granary,” he narrated, approaching the tool shed. “I can worry about whatever’s going on with the time later… things are about to get serious,” he said as he made his way through the shack, ending up at the base of the trail.

“You’ve got one shot at this… don’t screw it up or you’re a dead man,” he coached himself. Then, after taking a few deep breaths to steady himself, he took off sprinting down the path. Almost immediately the artificial cicada song began again, this time accompanied by a sound that could only be described as a deep, distorted clicking. Dark clouds moved in to cover the moon as a deep blue haze enveloped the field, creeping through the weeds and blotting out the sky, effectively striking terror into Carl’s heart. It was then that he saw the undead abomination charging at him head-on from further down the path, the remaining bits of its rotting mouth twisted into a silent snarl. His eyes widened at the sight, and without thinking he instinctively ducked into the weeds for cover, hoping that they would help conceal him from the creature. He did his best to keep the chapel gate in sight as he crashed through the overgrown mess of crops, but the sheer height of the vegetation was making it difficult to see anything. The furious monster was hot on his heels, and the earsplitting ambiance grew louder and louder as it gained on him. The blue haze thickened with every step he took, making it impossible for Carl to see more than a few feet in front of himself. He could barely breathe or see through the suffocating mist, as it burned his lungs and stung his eyes, and he could feel himself growing fatigued from carving his way through the wall of crops. He realized with horror that he was beginning to slow down as the sound of the monster crashing through weeds just behind him grew louder and louder. Plants whipped him in the face, stringy roots threatened to trip him up, and the noises ringing in his ears grew louder and louder until he could bear it no longer.

Then, just as he thought he was done for, the mist lifted, the noises ceased, and the monster retreated back into the field. Wheezing and gasping for air, Carl wiped his watering eyes with his sleeve before looking around, confused as to what saved his life. Perhaps the only pleasant surprise he’d receive that night was the fact that somehow, miraculously, he’d made it to the cemetery gate. Wasting no time, he jammed the key into the lock and turned it, letting the chains and padlock fall to the ground as the ancient latch released its hold. The gate let out an eerie creak as it slid open, gliding across the ground like fog rolling in over a lake; followed by something that sounded like a long, drawn out, unearthly wail, as if a tortured spirit was releasing an anguished cry. The hairs on the back of Carl’s neck stood on end and goosebumps ran down his arms as the haunting sound chilled him to the bone, creating a sensation of being watched by unseen eyes. He quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure there was no movement in the field… but there was nothing; not even the owls or crickets dared to make a sound anymore. Everything was silent… everything was still… it was as if the entire world was holding its breath, and not even the return of the moonlight could offer sanctuary any more. Growing more paranoid by the second, he attempted to close the gate back up, but it was embedded deep into the dirt and wouldn’t budge. He bit his lip as the realization that he’d have to remain out in the open hit him, and decided to check out the graveyard quickly before investigating the chapel. Despite the unsettling atmosphere of the situation, Carl could only feel saddened by the sight of some of the tombstones. Among the dead were a few names he recognized from the family portrait, several of whom had died young;

_ Maggie Matheson: 1890-1905 _

_ Elizabeth Matheson: 1868-1905 _

_ Clarence Matheson: 1866-1901 _

_ James Matheson: 1854-1903 _

_ Henry Hayes: 1824-1902 _

_ Norman Hayes: 1894-1905 _

_ Rose Matheson: 1891-1905 _

_ Georgia Matheson: 1870-1900 _

_ Ada Hayes: 1872-1905 _

“What the hell happened between 1900 and 1905 that killed all of these people?” he asked, fearful that he already knew the answer. The majority of the people from the picture were buried beside one another, but no matter how hard he looked, Carl was unable to locate the graves of Patricia, Franklin, and Walter Matheson. He even checked a batch of older graves in an overgrown area a little ways away, the oldest of which dated back to 1812, but even that effort yielded no results. “Well, considering that a few members of the Hayes and Matheson families are still around, I think it’s safe to assume that at least a few people escaped whatever went down here… hopefully, these guys just got lucky,” Carl narrated. “Wait, is that…” he began, noticing something out of the corner of his eye. After only a moment of hesitation, he approached the weeping willow that grew near the chapel, something disturbing having piqued his interest. “Oh, Jesus Christ, what is wrong with this place?” he whined. The investigator’s concern was completely justified, for set in the grass beneath the tree was a wide circle of large, round stones. Even after all of these years, the earth inside of the circle remained blackened as if some dark ritual had burned away all of the life within it. Feeling lightheaded, he turned away from the ritual circle and headed back toward the graveyard, doing his best to focus on something else. Thankfully, he caught sight of that familiar, triangular tombstone he’d seen earlier and made a beeline for it, wanting to get as far away from the willow tree as possible. Once he approached the grave, however, he had to get a much closer look at it than he would’ve liked in order to read the eroded inscription;

* * *

_ Frieda Matheson _

_ 1820-1905 _

_ May you be blessed for eternity _

* * *

“Now what did you do to earn yourself a spot all the way up here and away from everybody else?” Carl asked, kneeling to get a better look at the writing. Alas, the headstone provided no further clues, and so he left it behind without incident and finally approached the chapel, dimly taking note of the eroded siding and rickety wooden stairs as he entered the dark building. Collapsed, decaying pews faced a raised section of floor on the opposite side of the room where a podium and two more pews still stood, and the building’s peeling gray wallpaper was accompanied by a grimy tile floor. Disappointingly, the building didn’t contain very much aside from that. However, that disappointment soon turned to horror when he caught sight of a yellowed sheet of paper placed on a wooden table and read over it, finally understanding the dark truth of the Matheson Farm;

* * *

_ I seek only salvation for myself and my family from _

_ that demon sent to torment my life. I brought the _

_ devil’s wrath upon my family. I did this, I went _

_ searching for this demon. I brought him into our _

_ lives. I invoked his arrival. How could I have been so _

_ blind as to manifest such evil? Why could I not let old _

_ legends die? I alone should bear this burden! Why must _

_ my grandchildren suffer for my imprudence? They _

_ will never come home. That archfiend has them now. _

_ We all must bear this burden. We must all repent for _

_ our ignorance, and rid this world of this demon for _

_ good. None ever shall confront this evil ever again! It _

_ dies with us! _

_ May the fire cleanse our souls and burn our sins, _

_ ~Frieda Matheson _

* * *

Quietly, Carl folded up the paper and stuffed it in his pocket, processing this new information. It was now obvious to him why Frieda was buried so far away from all of the other graves; She was the one who brought on the downfall of the farm… she was the one who infected the Hayes and Matheson families with this plague. It was Frieda who’d locked herself in that barn with her family and burned it to the ground, believing that their deaths would banish whatever demon she’d conjured… but she was wrong, horribly wrong. Finally, he knew what tragedy befell this godforsaken place, and why all of those graves were marked with the year of 1905… the people here had been burned alive, both metaphorically and literally, and they all burned together. It was while he was staring off into space mulling over everything he’d learned that a sudden change in atmosphere rocked his world; the air became even more frigid than before and an ominous shadow engulfed the entire room. An overwhelming sense of dread quickly grew in the pit of his stomach, and the feeling of being watched returned to him as if something sinister had just entered the room. Suddenly the chapel door slammed shut behind him, and he let out a yelp before whirling around, only to freeze in horror at the sight he was greeted with.

Blocking the chapel door was the tall man from Charlie’s drawings; his suit as black as night, his tie as red as blood, and his clammy skin as pale as a corpse. Standing completely motionless, the demon towered over him, its head nearly reaching the ceiling and its unnaturally long arms hanging stiffly at its sides. The horrible, featureless face it featured showed no emotion, but despite not having any eyes, its head was angled downward to gaze upon the quivering intruder. For some reason that Carl couldn’t explain, the longer he was in close proximity to the creature, the more it felt like his brain was going to crawl out of his skull. Blood steadily trickled from his nose and ears as his breathing became ragged, his lungs struggling to function properly. He dropped to his knees as an intense wave of nausea overtook him, black blotches obscuring his blurred vision as a high-pitched frequency rang in his ears. His very blood ran cold, and his eyes involuntarily watered as he fought to stay conscious through the intense pain. Gritting his teeth and squinting through the tears, he dropped his camcorder and clutched the sides of his head, letting out a painful groan. Then, the demon slowly crouched down to his level and looked him in the eyes, an even more intense wave of pain shooting through his head as a deep, powerful voice entered his mind;  _ **“You are where you do not belong.”** _ Carl could no longer think, no longer feel anything other than total agony, and it was the demon’s mental invasion that finished the job. He dropped down on all fours and retched up a combination of bile and blood, continuing for several minutes until he could vomit no more. He prayed for anything to make it stop, to ease his suffering, but when he finally managed to reopen his eyes he was surprised to see that the tall man was long gone, having seemingly vanished into thin air as abruptly as it arrived. Trembling violently and drenched in a cold sweat, Carl fought through the pain and retrieved his camera, making his way to the door… only to find it locked. He grunted an obscenity and turned back toward the pews, avoiding the spilled contents of his stomach as he made his way to the door near the podium… but that one was locked too. Letting out a sigh of defeat, he wiped the drying blood and tears from his face and slumped down on one of the more stable pews, cradling his head in his hands. The nosebleed had stopped entirely, as well as everything other than the migraine, which was receding at a much slower pace than he would’ve liked. Unfortunately, he could only drink a little bit of the water he’d brought and take some of the aspirin in his first aid kit to try remedying his wounds, as none of them required bandages or gauze. Thousands of questions had sprung up in his mind over the course of the last several minutes, one of the most prominent being the mystery of how the demon had simply vanished into thin air. Had it not been for the fact that he felt like he’d been hit by a truck, he would’ve considered writing the whole thing off as a hallucination… that is if the camera hadn’t picked up the entire exchange as well.

“How the hell am I still alive?” he pondered, coming to terms with the fact that the faceless demon was clearly responsible for the destruction of the farm and two entire bloodlines. From the initial conjuring to Charlie’s disappearance, that thing was at the epicenter of it all. Then, he remembered a crucial piece of the puzzle; “What does that zombie thing have to do with any of this?” he wondered. At first, he’d thought that the savage being was the source of the homestead’s dark legacy, but the appearance of the suited man had blown that theory clear out of the water; “So what the hell is it doing here then?” Eventually, he was able to come up with two theories; First was the idea that the ghoul might be some sort of underling to the tall man, brought here to act as a guard dog and protect the demon’s territory. Maybe it even sounded an alarm after he’d managed to evade it for the third time and enter the graveyard, which would explain why the demon only bothered to show up at that point in time… but not why it decided to leave right away. He had a second guess though, and that was the simple idea that more than one supernatural being had moved onto the property over time and claimed sections of it as their own. It made sense that the site of such a terrible tragedy would attract dark forces, but Carl prayed that it wasn’t true. The night had been enough of a trainwreck without having to deal with even more monsters. What was next if his second guess was actually correct? A wendigo? A poltergeist maybe? “Don’t be ridiculous, those things don’t exi…” but before he could finish that thought, he caught himself. Just a few short hours ago he would’ve thought it ridiculous to consider what he’d just been through within the realm of possibility, so now he didn’t know what to believe in. “I need to quit thinking so much and get the fuck out of here,” he concluded, returning his items to his backpack and shakily standing up. He may not have found out what happened to Charlie, but he’d unearthed enough Matheson history to last him a lifetime. He could leave this place satisfied that he’d given it his all, but a dark thought lingered in the back of his mind as he got up to search for another exit; “I might’ve just brought this curse down on myself too…” He hoped dearly that this would be the last he saw of both the cellar ghoul and the faceless man, but he couldn’t ignore the possibility that his trespassing wouldn’t be forgiven so easily. As he combed over the room yet again, he noticed a small wooden table standing beside the raised flooring, an old picture frame containing the portrait of a little boy placed atop it. The boy was dressed in formal attire and sitting on a leather chair, and the frame itself was engraved near the bottom;

* * *

_ Walter Matheson _

_ May the angels guide you home _

* * *

Trying not to think of what use a demon might have for an innocent child, Carl collected the picture as more evidence. He honestly didn’t even know why he was still making an effort to investigate the place… perhaps it was just for a sense of completion. Either way, it wasn’t going to help him leave his threadbare prison. Both of the chapel’s doors were still locked and the windows were all boarded shut, leaving him with no way out. It was on his final attempt at finding an exit when he literally stumbled over a new development; near the front of the room was a small pile of old, worn down toys consisting of a baby doll and five segments of a toy train. “May as well take these things too,” he muttered, beginning to scoop the artifacts into his backpack. However, unbeknownst to him was the cellar creature peering into the building through a gap in the boarded windows, a burning rage taking over as it watched him steal the only things that brought the beast comfort in this terrible place. Just as he was putting his backpack back on, a ghastly shriek sounded off from just outside of the chapel. Heavy footsteps thudded closer and closer until the back door burst open with a loud splintering crack as the gaunt figure entered the building. It stood perched in the doorway, scanning the room from left to right before finally fixating its gaze on its prey. When the two finally locked eyes, the creature’s expression twisted into a snarl, and its raspy voice hissed directly to Carl;  _ “Youuuuuuuuu dieeeeee nowwwwwwww…” _

The man in question barely had time to react before the abomination charged at him, roaring at the top of its decaying lungs in a blind fury. He instinctively whipped around and ran into the narrow hall on the western side of the chapel, ascending the stairs at the end and running past the podium with the monster hot on his heels. He jumped off of the raised floor, having made a full loop through the building, and bolted out of the open door, slamming it shut behind him. Fortunately for him, he’d slammed it so hard that it actually jammed in place, trapping the ghoul inside. The furious cries and shrieks of the creature were deafening, but yet… almost heartbreaking in a way. However, Carl had no time to feel sympathy for the man-turned-monster, for mixed in with the creature’s desperate wails was the sound of old wood splintering as it ruthlessly pounded its fists against the door. Not wishing to test his luck any further, he wasted no time getting as far away from the building as possible and bolted down the dirt path leading back to the farmhouse, the screeching of the monster growing quieter the more distance he put between himself and the chapel. The farmhouse was close, very close, and Carl nearly shed tears of joy when he realized that he only had to make his way through one more small obstacle before finally being granted freedom from the hellhole he’d forced himself to visit. Unfortunately, things weren’t going to go as smoothly as he would’ve liked. Just as he ran through the house’s back door, the chapel’s exploded off of its hinges and allowed the beast to continue its pursuit.

As the incessant screaming grew louder and louder, Carl realized that the only thing he could do now was hide and ducked into the darkest corner of the room he could find. He sat there crouched behind an overturned desk as still as a statue, as silent as a mouse, praying that his cover would last long enough to grant him an escape route. However, something happened that he hadn’t anticipated… nothing at all. Just as the creature was finally closing in on the house, its shrieks were abruptly silenced and all was calm. Carl wasn’t a fool though, he’d come too far to be lured in by such an obvious trap, and so he stayed hidden for what felt like hours, hardly daring to breathe, as he knew that even the slightest sound could betray him. Eventually, the sheer lack of activity finally piqued his curiosity, and he cautiously peeked out from behind his hiding spot and let out a sigh of relief; the monster was gone. He almost laughed aloud at the fact that his assailant had been fooled by one of the oldest tricks in the book, and smiled from ear to ear at the thought of the nightmare being over within a matter of minutes. There was only one setback; the door ahead was the same one that previously blocked his progress when he’d first investigated the room with the fireplace, and it was the only way out. “I’ll break the fucker down if I have to,” he proclaimed but stopped in his tracks when he remembered the trap door he’d seen in the room on the other side of the door. “I suppose a little more exploring wouldn’t hurt now that I’m out of the line of fire,” he sighed and approached the staircase leading to the second floor. However, whatever his expectations had been while making his way up to the attic, what he found clearly surpassed them.

Dim rays of moonlight shone through the gaps in the shattered, semi-boarded windows, barely managing to illuminate the cryptic scene; Ruined sofas, tables, chairs, desks, and bookshelves littered the room, some of which were so decayed that it was nearly impossible to tell what they were anymore. Containers of flammable chemicals like the ones in the barn’s loft were piled up in a few of the corners, and heaps of old books were stacked atop the desks and tables, scattered across the floor, and clumsily crammed onto the few bookshelves that were still intact. Plastered on the stone brick walls and strewn about the grimy wooden floor were ancient sheets of paper and parchment featuring nonsensical ramblings and scribbles, only a few of which had intelligible phrases such as _“You”_ or _“Come Home Now”_ written on them. Accompanying the papers on the walls were huge sketches of trees, circles, exes, and crosses all made with the same black paint that was splattered near the bottom left corner of the western wall in a way that almost made it look like a pair of wings. However, the eeriest of the illustrations was a white, crossed-out depiction of the faceless man painted on the eastern wall just above a rotting couch, the phrase; _“Abandon All Hope, For Death Is Only The Beginning”_ scrawled beneath it. For once, Carl felt no fear or apprehension toward the situation in front of him… only curiosity. As he was still processing what exactly was going on with his surroundings, he noticed something peculiar; resting on a busted chair near the staircase was a yellowed page that had been torn from a book. Dominating the page was an illustration of a strange, twisted beast lurking behind a nervous woman who was sitting in a stool beneath a window. Below the picture was a word that he recognized from one of the German classes he’d taken; _“Verzweiflung”_. It meant ‘despair’, and judging from the context of the drawing, the lady in it had a pretty good reason to be feeling that particular emotion. He decided to take the page with him and pocketed it before searching the rest of the room. After several minutes of digging through the stacks of books and papers, he managed to pinpoint three sources of information, two of them consisting of journal entries torn from their books and placed on desks. Unfortunately, despite his efforts to locate the full journals, they were nowhere to be found. “This is just gonna have to be good enough,” Carl decided, beginning to read through them. Both entries consisted of a set of two pages barely held together by aged stitching, the first of which was a diary entry accompanied by a gloomy sketch of the faceless man standing outside of the chapel;

* * *

_ Dearest Diary, _

_ Patricia still has yet to come _

_ home… _

_ Mother insists she ran off to _

_ search for wildflowers again… _

_ But I know that’s not true. _

_ It was that man, that thing grandmother keeps rambling on _

_ about.  _

_ I do not think she’s mad. _

_ I have seen the man myself, he _

_ watches us as we play. _

_ Patty went to him, I just know it! _

_ If only mother would listen! _

_ I wonder when she’ll come home… _

_ ~Rose _

* * *

The second entry began with the ending of another and led into an update from a few days later. This set had no cryptic pictures to go with the writing, but that didn’t make it any less unnerving;

* * *

_ but it’s more or less the same as it’s _

_ always been. Maybe tomorrow. _

_~Maggie,_ _June 2nd, 1905_

_ Father is making us pray again tonight… _

_ It’ll do no good. It’s bothersome if _

_ anything. And I’d bet anything Patty _

_ and Walt ran away from this miserable _

_ old place, and I don’t blame them one bit. _

_ Grandmother and Rose insist on some _

_ batty tale that a strange man took them _

_ away. Am I the only one keeping their _

_ wits around here? Maybe I should run _

_ away too. _

_~Maggie,_ _June 9th, 1905_

* * *

“Well, that explains why I couldn’t find those kids’ graves… that demon took them,” he mused, “But that still doesn’t explain what happened to Franklin… maybe he was one of the lucky ones.” Despite the answers the two journal entries provided, the most useful piece of information he found was the third document; an aged letter all the way from Germany that made Carl realize he’d been carrying around one of the most vital pieces of the puzzle ever since he found it in the cellar;

* * *

_ Dearest Frieda, _

_ Though my heart still pains for your missing children, I fear _

_ for your health my sweet sister. You mustn’t worry your mind _

_ with those twisted tales of our youth. You know as well as I they _

_ were merely tales to keep us all in good behaviour. If only _

_ mother knew what those silly legends would do to you. Though I _

_ have no recollection of the one you mention. Was it from one of _

_ mother’s books you took with you? _

_ I wish I were with you now, in your time of need, rather than _

_ whittling my days away alone. I wish you well, an ocean away, _

_ may my thoughts and prayers reach you. _

_ ~Franziska _

* * *

After reading that, Carl immediately took off his backpack and stuffed the newfound documents inside. He then retrieved  _ Granny Richter’s Big Book of Stories: Volume 1 _ and began flipping through the pages; “Bergmönch... Nachzehrer… Feldgeister… Walrider… Lindworm…” he read aloud before exclaiming; “Wait, this is it!”

* * *

**Der Großmann**

* * *

Below the page’s title was a detailed depiction of the faceless, suited man, and below that was an entire passage of German folklore on the creature. Deeply intrigued, Carl skimmed through the page, making a mental note to look it over in greater detail once he was safe in his own home. According to the book, Der Großmann was an ancient being said to lurk within the Black Forest in SouthWest Germany. The creature was known for stalking disobedient children, particularly those who’d run away from home and into the forest. Once Der Großmann had the child in his sights, he would pursue them relentlessly until they were captured, never to be seen or heard from again. It wasn’t known what happened to the children after they were abducted, but whatever it was, it surely wasn’t anything pleasant. It was after skimming through the entry on Der Großmann one more time and returning the book to his backpack that Carl remembered the summoning circle under the willow tree. He couldn’t even begin to understand why Frieda tried to summon the thing, regardless of whether she believed it to be real or only desired to disprove the story. Perhaps the answer to his question was as simple as the fact that the woman had been too naive to foresee the consequences of her actions, but there was no way of knowing for sure now. He let out a sigh and stood up, putting his backpack back on and picking his camera up off of the table he’d set it on. “I can try to figure this all out later when I get home, I’ve dicked around this place for far too long as it is,” he announced. Fully content with the discoveries his efforts had awarded him with, he was preparing to leave when he noticed one last clue. Near the bottom of the southern wall, just to the right of the table he’d found Franziska’s letter on, was a set of childish drawings just like the ones he’d seen in the cellar. He approached the sketches curiously, making sure to get them on film, and it was then that he froze on the spot. His eyes widened in surprise as the final pieces of the puzzle came together at long last, for written in dried blood at the center of the drawings was the artist’s signature;  _ Charlie _ .

A wave of shock hit Carl like a cement truck as the truth finally dawned on him. He’d expected a lot of different outcomes from this investigation, but never something this horrible. That ghoul… the wretched monstrosity that had been pursuing him for this entire time was all that remained of the boy he’d been searching for; Charlie Matheson Jr. He could see the resemblance very clearly now if he thought about it hard enough, but something was horribly wrong, even more so than the fact that the boy had been transformed into a deranged, undead guard dog by Der Großmann; Charlie went missing when he was only six years old, and that monster looked like it was at least twelve or thirteen when it died. However, it was when he glanced back across the room and read between the lines of the writing on the wall that he realized the horrible truth; “Abandon All Hope, For Death Is Only The Beginning” wasn’t just an ominous quote plastered on the wall by a senile old woman, it was what was happening to Charlie. The boy wasn’t really dead, and perhaps he never had been. No, he was trapped somewhere between life and death, aging far more slowly than he should’ve been… doomed to suffer for eternity as a slave to the one who’d taken him away so long ago; Der Großmann. Carl felt sick to his stomach; to think that the thing he’d been calling a monster this entire time was just another victim of something far worse was like a punch right to the guts. Where he once felt nothing more than fear and hatred toward the twisted entity, he now felt only sympathy. Charlie was no longer in control of his own actions, he’d been reduced to a mindless drone with the sole purpose of serving as a tool to an outside administrator… a human ‘proxy’, so to speak. Suddenly, a terrible thought popped into his head; “If this bastard went after Charlie than maybe it’s thinking of going after Kate too!” His theory made perfect sense; Charlie was the last of the Matheson family and Der Großmann had gone after him and quite possibly his father as well, effectively snuffing out their bloodline. As far as he knew, Kate and her mother were the last of the Hayes bloodline so it would only make sense for the demon to target them next. “I need to get out of here and warn them right fucking now, this thing could decide to come after them at any moment,” he exclaimed, making his way over to the open trapdoor he’d seen from the first floor. After peering down into the room to make sure the coast was clear, he quietly lowered himself in to avoid attracting any unwanted attention.

However, he only had a few moments of calm before the previously barricaded door burst open, an enraged roar filling the room. The door had been hit so hard that it was knocked clean off of its hinges, with one of the boards coming loose and smashing into Carl’s forehead. He staggered back into the wall, struggling to remain conscious and wincing in pain as warm blood dripped down his face. Through blurred vision, he saw the horrific figure of Charlie Matheson Jr. coming through the doorway with the intent to kill. Utilizing the last of his strength, Carl got back on his feet and bolted through the house as fast as he could, constantly stumbling and tripping as he struggled with the double vision that was quickly taking over. The furious screaming filled his ears as he weaved his way through the house with Charlie close behind, finally managing to make it out the door and into the cold night air. He ran faster than he’d ever run before, and much to his delight was managing to outpace his assailant, but his erratic movements caused him to trip over a loose brick and drop his camcorder, which rolled ahead and came to a stop upright. “Shit!” he yelled, knowing full well that to stop and pick it up would mean certain death. So he kept running, and as the battered camera was slowly overcome with audio and visual distortions, it managed to pick up the ending of the debacle; Carl ran by the camera without slowing down, and only a few seconds later did Charlie pass by as well. A few tense moments passed before the sound of a car starting up mixed in with Charlie’s animalistic roars, and it all ended with Carl speeding out of the driveway and down the road, narrowly escaping his would-be murderer and vowing to never return to that place again despite half of his evidence having been lost there. Just as static finally overcame the still-running camcorder, it managed to pick up a few more seconds of action; footsteps approached from behind the device, which was then picked up by unseen hands. Before the perpetrator could be revealed, the camera finally succumbed to the abuse it’d been through and shut off, never to work again.

  
What followed later that night was a trip to the hospital for some stitches in his forehead, a tense drive home shortly afterward, several hours of berating himself for losing the most valuable piece of evidence he had, reassuring himself that he’d still gathered enough physical proof to make the people he wanted to protect believe him, before finally drinking himself to sleep to block out the trauma he’d just been through. When Carl awoke the next morning with the worst hangover he’d ever had, as well as a nasty concussion, the last thing he’d expected to find was a cardboard box at his doorstep containing his camcorder. At first, he’d thought he was hallucinating it, but once he realized that it was in fact really there, he figured that something this miraculous was too good to be true and guessed that the thing must’ve been damaged beyond repair. He thought himself proven right when the camera wouldn’t turn on even after being charged, but when he took out the tape, stuck it in a spare camcorder, and played back the recording, he was ecstatic to discover that all of the footage was still there from beginning to end. Grinning like a madman, Carl took a moment to look over the box it came in for a second time, finding a folded up note wedged under the bottom flaps. The note was short, sweet, and to the point, but it let him know exactly how the mysterious stranger who’d retrieved his belongings for him felt about the situation by simply stating;  _ “Now do what you know you have to do.” ~F _ . He hadn’t the slightest clue who this ‘F’ character was, but he was eternally grateful for their efforts. If his mysterious ally wanted him to warn Kate and Beth about the storm headed their way, then he’d be more than happy to oblige.


	10. Adrift in Shadow

With trembling hands, Lauren took the tape as it slid out of the VCR and placed it back by the folder. She took a few moments to compose herself, massaging a growing headache as the horrors and revelations she’d just witnessed sank in like an anchor. “How did Carl even manage to get the tape back?” she wondered, having no way of knowing what happened after the footage cut out. Thankfully, that was the only new question she had, as the tape answered most of her other ones. For one, she now had a much more intimate look into the power of The Keeper, or as it was referred to in German lore; Der Großmann. The thing had absolutely decimated Carl just by being in his proximity, and that terrified Lauren for one sole reason; she too had felt whatever supernatural radiation emitted from the creature, but the effect it had on her in the park didn’t even come close to the level of devastation it had on Carl, which meant that The Keeper maintained full control of how its influence affects its victims. She could only imagine the terrible ways it could use that ability to its advantage and felt even worse for Kate the more she thought about what the demon could’ve been doing to her all this time. There was also the matter of the creature’s origin to ponder, and she couldn’t help but wonder how many different names and identities the beast had, correctly guessing that there were quite a few since the creature had most likely been around long before the author of that storybook discovered it.

Then there was the biggest revelation from the entire film; Kate’s connection with the Mathesons. It was undoubtedly the reason she’d been targeted by the faceless demon, and snuffed out her previous theory of Carl being the one to bring these dark forces into their lives… even though he was still responsible for getting himself put on The Keeper’s hit list. Kate would’ve been a target regardless of Carl’s actions, and that’s something that nobody could’ve changed. Lauren was sure that Kate had no idea of her true lineage before being shown that family photo, and she sincerely doubted that her mother had been made aware of the family’s dark past as well. “Wait a minute… Beth got sick back in ‘07, just two years before Kate ended up in the line of fire…” she pondered; “and her condition only got worse and worse after what happened in Riverview,” Lauren realized, a volatile combination of shock and anger erupting inside of her. “That slimy son of a bitch, He’s the one responsible for what happened to Kate’s parents,” she seethed, remembering how John Milens had died of a mysterious disease, the exact same one that wound up killing Beth, when Kate was only three years old, leaving her without a father figure from that day forward and devastating his widow to the point that she changed her own last name back to Hayes, but kept her daughter’s as Milens in memory of her late husband. 

The crimes of Der Großmann didn’t stop there, however, as Charlie Matheson Jr. was also a major factor. He’d been an innocent child before that demon took him away, and to what end? Was it for sport? For sustenance maybe? Both options were equally sickening, but Lauren felt especially nauseous when thinking about a little kid being fed off of by that monster. Had it not been for the tape, she never would’ve guessed that the twisted ghoul that she and Carl both encountered was actually Charlie. Despite the fact that he’d never said it out loud in the video, Lauren came to the same conclusion that Carl did; Charlie was stuck somewhere between life and death, trapped eternally in that twisted form. He looked younger in the film than he did in the burned house, but it was such a slight difference that it was easy to miss. However, it was more than enough evidence to prove that he was definitely still aging… just unnaturally slow. “He never really was a monster, was he…” Lauren sighed, remembering how Charlie gave Carl several chances to leave his home before going on the offensive. She then began to wonder if Charlie was like The Chaser; a slave to the demon that took them both away. “Maybe he was back then, but now… I’m not so sure,” she thought, remembering how the boy had only lashed out at her because she startled him in a vulnerable moment. At the farm he seemed to act as more of a predator, whereas when she’d come across him in the burned house, he behaved like a wounded animal; only aggressive when threatened. She would’ve written it off as Charlie simply protecting his territory had it not been for the fact that, if that was the case, he would’ve acted the same way upon spotting an intruder in his childhood home rather than fleeing the scene. The thought of him being able to break free from their tormentor’s influence brought a smile to Lauren’s face, and she sincerely hoped it was true. 

Finally, there were the actions of Frieda Matheson to mull over, something that infuriated Lauren to no end. That woman was responsible for not only guaranteeing a terrible fate for two bloodlines but bringing a plague down on the entire town of Oakside as well. Try as she might, Lauren couldn’t come up with any logical reason for Frieda to conjure such evil, even if she’d actually been trying to destroy it. She was clearly hopelessly outgunned against the abomination and should’ve known better than to take it on, and even when she tried to make things right in her own twisted way, it’d still been completely ineffective against The Keeper. If she hadn’t been so stupid as to summon it, Kate and Charlie would be living normal lives with their families, and Carl and Lauren never would’ve been caught in the crossfire. Thinking deeply about all of the new information, she glanced over at the second tape, afraid to watch it after what she’d just been shown by the other one. After several moments of indecisiveness, she let out a reluctant sigh, picked up the oddly labeled tape, and hit play, her breath catching in her throat as the image of her best friend drawing in a dark room appeared onscreen.

**(X)**

_ The sound of heavy rain hitting the roof was soothing to Kate as she sat on her bed drawing strange, cryptic pictures and jumping at the frequent claps of thunder. She found herself unable to fall back asleep after having another nightmare, so she’d decided to draw instead as memories of the night it all began flooded into her head. The drawing was a habit that had formed over the years she’d been dealing with her paranormal stalkers, and as much as she hated to admit it, it was taking up more and more of her time with each passing day. The walls of her room were plastered with her sketches, the floor was littered with the ones she hadn’t strung up, and even sections of the walls had been used as a canvas. She tried her best not to think about the events that had taken place during the past few days, trying especially hard to block out the memories of what happened only mere hours ago, just before the downpour began. So much happened in such a short amount of time, the worst of which had taken place somewhere she’d hoped would provide sanctuary; the radio tower. Kate felt herself beginning to choke up again, and breathing became difficult as a fresh batch of tears ran down her face. “Oh god… Carl…” she sniveled, wiping them away. “Why didn’t you just listen to me?” _

_ She hadn’t bothered to get undressed or shower when she got home, simply heading up to her room and collapsing in bed instead. She still wore the dirty red shirt, torn blue jeans, and tan shoes that she’d been wearing for the better part of two days now, lacking the motivation to change into something clean after the horror she’d just been through. Kate couldn’t explain how she managed to make it out of that situation alive; everything had been pitch-black in that narrow hallway, the only light coming from the crackling flames of Carl’s last-ditch plan as horrific sounds rang out from all around them. The last thing she remembered was running blindly through the darkness and throwing open a heavy door, and then waking up in her front yard after being blinded by a flash of light. The only theory she had for the extraordinary circumstances of her survival was that her friend from the other side had finally returned to help after so many years of absence; but even if that was true, his deus ex machina may have come too late to do much more than delay the inevitable. _

_ The longer the storm went on, the more she enjoyed listening to it. The howling wind and buckets of rain helped clear her head, and the metallic creaking of the swingset and the sound of groaning trees only added to the soothing atmosphere. Perhaps the reason she could hear it so well was that earlier, shortly after she’d been teleported to her yard, she opened all of the windows and doors in her house, hoping to counteract the unusual heat wave that came just before the storm. Part of her knew that she probably should’ve shut them, but she didn’t care; it was an unusually warm night, the breeze felt good, and the sound and smell of the rain helped ease her conscience. However, as the hours passed the storm steadily grew worse, and Kate was debating more than ever on whether or not she wanted to bother getting up to stop the inside of her house from being drenched. It was late in the night now, around 3:30am, and the only light in her room came from the flashlight laying on her bed, as the storm had knocked out the power hours ago. She’d set up her camcorder next to the flashlight and was using it to record herself, another habit that stemmed from dealing with entities that nobody else could see. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind blew through the open window, sweeping through the scattered papers and knocking a few from the walls. Then, lightning flashed across the sky accompanied by an earsplitting crack of thunder and Kate froze on the spot, feeling a familiar chill creep up her spine. She turned to face the camera, her terror-filled eyes beginning to water, and whispered; “He’s here.” _

_ She quickly snatched up the equipment laying on her bed, requiring the flashlight to see more than five feet in front of her and hoping that the camera distortion would warn her of an enemy’s approach. “Close all the windows and doors,” Kate whispered to herself, running to her bedroom window and slamming it shut; “Just don’t let Him in…” The air that’d been warm only moments ago was now so frigid she could see her own breath, and it felt like her very blood was running cold; as if any remaining happiness had been drained from her world. She knew this feeling… it was one she’d felt only once before; it meant that He had her in His sights, and unlike the little ‘game’ they played in Riverview Park, The Administrator had no intention of going easy on her this time. Despite knowing how ineffective it would probably be, Kate quickly threw on her white hoodie to retain what little warmth she still could, savoring its cozy embrace as she prepared to make one final stand. She crept out into the dark hallway and shut the window at her end of the hall, her skin beginning to crawl as she realized how unnaturally silent everything other than the storm was. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing became raspy as fear slowly overtook her body. Part of her knew that securing her home wouldn’t stop The Administrator, but the little amount of willpower she had left to defy her adversary pushed her to do it anyway. _

_ She wished all the calls she’d made to Lauren telling her not to come over anymore would’ve gone through, but no matter how hard she tried, she’d been unable to find anywhere with reception. She almost would’ve believed it was the storm blocking out her signal had it not been for the fact that she was being hunted, so she was all but sure that her isolation was intentional rather than coincidence. However, as she was running from room to room shutting windows, she came up with one last idea to help her friend. Lauren was undoubtedly nearing Oakside by now, most likely having taken refuge from the storm, as these conditions would make driving an absolute nightmare. A glimmer of hope sparked within the terrified woman as she realized that her friend would be arriving sometime the next day, meaning that she wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire of her current predicament. After locking the window in a spare room, Kate tossed the key to her bedroom door on top of a desk, hoping that if Lauren didn’t take the hint to leave after seeing the house abandoned and torn apart, a result of Kate’s mental breakdown after what happened in the radio tower, she’d see the mess in her room and turn back immediately. She hoped that her friend would have enough sense to flee the house and call the police as soon as she saw what the place looked like, but she wasn’t so sure that Lauren wouldn’t try to find her on her own. In Kate’s mind, that would be the worst case scenario, as she was well aware of the reason her friend was so eager to help her sell the house. It was no secret that they’d grown apart over the years despite being the best of friends when they were kids, and Lauren wished to shorten the distance that’d grown between them. Although, if Kate was being perfectly honest with herself, that wasn’t how she felt about it at all; There wasn’t an ounce of blame that she put on Lauren for the rift that’d formed in their friendship, and if anything, she was actually grateful for the distance between them, since it meant that her best friend had been kept safe from harm. Her biggest regret was that she wasn’t going to live long enough to ease her friend’s guilt, and for not attempting to do so sooner. Snapping back to reality, she finished securing the upstairs and raced down the staircase, heading toward the open door. However, as terrified as she was, she wasn’t able to resist taking a look outside… regretting it as soon as she did. The wind howled, the rain came down in buckets, entire branches fell from trees, and streaks of lightning flashed across the dark sky. It was then that a particularly bright lightning bolt lit up the area and illuminated the tall, suited figure watching her from the treeline. Kate’s heart raced faster than it ever had before as she slammed and locked the door before returning to her objective. “Don’t go outside, He’s out there…” she whispered, racing through her house with the flashlight’s dim beam serving as her only guide. Then, as she was shutting the last few windows and doors, they arrived at long last; The Collective.  _

_ Deadhead, Persolus, The Observer, Cursor, Swain, and even Mister Scars could be seen standing outside of her house, appearing and disappearing with each flash of lightning. The only member missing was Firebrand; the one that got away. Her body wracked with shivers as she did her best to ignore the shadow demons and finish what she started, listening to the wind chimes crash together loudly in the tempest. Then, as she rushed to shut the remaining entrances, the radio she had sitting in the room across from the garage turned itself on, despite the house not having any power, and blared what sounded like a distorted combination of garbled music and white noise. She remembered a similar situation, one that occurred at the very beginning of the nightmare all the way back in 2009, only with disembodied whispers instead of music. Finally, after several more minutes of suspense, Kate took a seat at the bottom of the stairs to catch her breath; it was over. The house was sealed, and now all that was left to do was wait. She found herself gazing absentmindedly at the fresh drawings on the wall, wondering what possessed her to sketch them in such an inconvenient place. It was then that it finally happened; her guard had been lowered only for a few short moments, but that was all it took. With a thunderous crash, the front door swung open and smashed into the wall, revealing her adversaries standing just outside; Deadhead with his black hood and lifelike skull mask, Persolus with most of his form wreathed in shadow, The Observer with his glowing glasses and maniacal grin, Cursor with her eyes stitched shut in the shape of x’s, Swain with his smiling theatre mask and old military uniform, and Mister Scars with a stoic expression on his mutilated face. At the center of them all stood their master with open arms as if He was welcoming his prey. It was then that she realized with horror that they weren’t trying to kill her, they were going to… “No!” Kate yelled, bolting back up the stairs. “I need to hide…” she whispered, sprinting toward her bedroom. _

  
_ When she finally reached her last remaining place of sanctuary, she slammed the door shut and locked herself inside. Tears began to flow as she walked toward the window, hugging her arms tight to her chest to keep warm. “I don’t want to die,” she whimpered, watching the rain run down the glass.  _ ** _“It’s time to go,”_ ** _ said a demonic voice in her head as The Administrator’s bony hand grasped her shoulder. Kate let out a shriek and used the last of her strength to break free from Him off one last time. In one final attempt at escape, she threw herself out the window, shattering the glass and slicing herself open in several places. As the ground rushed up to meet her, she closed her eyes and waited for the end. Then, she landed on top of and smashed her camera and everything went black as she laid there broken and battered on the cold hard ground. _


	11. Ignes Inferni

**WARNING!**

**ONGOING REVISIONS ARE IN PROGRESS BEYOND THIS POINT!**

**THEREFORE, CONTENT AND QUALITY AHEAD MAY NOT LINE UP WITH PREVIOUS CHAPTERS/STORIES!**

* * *

The only source of light in the dark room came from a small television. The VCR it was hooked up to refused to eject the tape, and now displayed only white static. Lauren sat in front of it, staring into the blank screen, contemplating what she’d witnessed. Her best friend, someone she considered a sister… was dead. No doubt about it. Even if she had managed to survive that fall, Der Großmann would have finished the job. The distraught woman clenched her fists, her nails digging into her flesh, all while she tried to hold back tears. When she’d seen what had happened to Kate, it felt as if a part of Lauren died with her.

Lauren and Kate may not have been related by blood, but they might as well have been. They’d been best friends as long as either one could remember, and now… Lauren’s sorrow quickly turned to rage as she pictured the ones responsible. Der Großmann... The Observer… The Collective… they were all going to pay. She didn’t know how, and she didn’t know when, but one way or another they were going to pay for their actions. In the midst of her blind rage, Lauren came to a realization. Carl was still out there somewhere. Maybe he’d actually managed to make it to the radio tower.

She was close now. The radio tower was within sight, and if she could get there, maybe she’d still be able to save a life. Lauren was getting to that radio tower one way or another, even if it killed her. But there was one question that still stood. How was she going to get out of this place? The exit was still locked. As if on cue, she heard a soft click come from the door in question as it swung open, letting the evening sunlight flow in. Without hesitation, Lauren walked towards the exit, not bothering to take the tapes and folder with her. Whoever had put those there for her to see could come and get them if they wanted them back bad enough. “This is for you, Kate”, Lauren said as she stepped through the door.

A cool breeze hit her as soon as she’d stepped out of the building. Looking around, Lauren quickly discovered that she’d stepped onto the continuation of the trail from before. To her right, the rocky terrain formed a natural wall against the building she’d previously been in, and to her left was a scenic view similar to the one from earlier. The only way for her to go was a grassy path winding its way up the tree-dotted mountain. She hiked up the path in silence, taking in the many sights. Dim beams of sunlight shone through the trees, casting ominous shadows against the earth, and the distant mountains shone golden red in the setting sun. It was just as beautiful as before, but Lauren could find no pleasure in it now.

At last, she reached the trail's end at the mountaintop. It was grassy and had a few trees scattered about, but it appeared to be a dead end. Just as Lauren was about to get angry for wasting her time, she noticed an opening in the rocky wall of the mountain. Upon closer inspection of the cave, she saw that there were wooden support beams within holding up the ceiling. That’s when she noticed the eroded, black plaque cemented to the stones outside of the cave. It read; “Historic Kullman Mines. Established: 1895. Closed: 1928”. 

“This must be the original Kullman Mine…”, Lauren thought. It was pitch black inside the cave, and she felt a bit nervous about what might lie within. But then she caught sight of the radio tower over the top of the mountain range and remembered why she’d come all this way. Pushing her fear to the back of her mind, Lauren flicked on her flashlight and entered the cave, completely unaware of the thick black smoke rising around the tower.

The cave was dark, quiet, and eerie. The main path had abruptly ended at a rock ledge that was far too steep to climb back up. Lauren swallowed her fear and jumped down, landing unharmed in the cold dirt below. She waved her flashlight around to look for any potential threats… but the cave was empty. Although she wasn’t about to let her guard down, she decided it was safe enough to take a look around. Surprisingly enough, little patches of grass managed to grow in the light devoided place. Less surprising was the moss and mushroom growth. Lauren shone her flashlight around the cave until the beam of light landed on something odd. A sealed cardboard box with an envelope placed on top of it.

_ Meet me by the street in an hour. I left a list of things to bring with you. Leave everything else behind. I’ll explain everything as soon as I see you. I know how to fix all of this. _

_ Don’t tell Lauren about me _

_ ~CR _

The woman in question let the letter drop to the cave floor in disbelief. What exactly had she just read? What did Carl mean by; “Don’t tell Lauren about me”? He knew damn well that she’d been coming to Oakside. Hell, he’d called her and warned her against coming. Had Carl lost his mind? Lauren would find out soon enough, and continued her trek through the cave, quickly reaching a downward slope. Just as she was about to continue down the path, her foot hit something metal and sent it rolling down the slope with a loud clang. Lauren barely managed to catch the rolling object in her flashlight’s beam before it disappeared from sight. It was an empty can of white paint. A gut-wrenching sensation hit Lauren as she shone her flashlight onto the cave walls ahead of her, revealing the crazed writing painted on them.

_ NEED TO END THIS _

_ I’M SO SORRY _

_ HE WANTS THEM TO WARN YOU _

_ I’M SORRY _

_ IT’S SO SIMPLE _

_ WE ARE ALL CAUGHT IN HIS WEB _

_ HIS ARRIVAL IS COMING _

_ SORRY _

_ END IT HERE _

_ YOU KNOW ABOUT HIM, HE KNOWS ABOUT YOU _

_ STOP IT _

_ HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA HA _

_ YOU’RE HELPING HIS ARRIVAL _

_ END THIS _

_ YOU WARN THEM AND DOOM THEM _

_ READ THIS AND DIE _

_ I CAN’T STOP _

_ IT CAN END _

_ THERE WILL BE NO ARRIVAL _

_ I’M SO SORRY FOR EVERYTHING _

_ END IT ALL WITH FIRE _

_ HE WILL BE GONE FOREVER _

The disturbed writing on the cave walls proved just how far gone Carl really was. Some of the phrases were repeated a countless amount of times, and some were written only once. A picture of the radio tower and a pine tree was painted on the wall to the right as well. “Dammit… god dammit…”, Lauren whimpered, blinking back tears. Now she’d lost two friends. One to a great fall, and one to madness. Just as she was about to give in to despair, Lauren realized something. Unlike Kate, there was still a chance to find and help Carl. Lauren regained her composure and looked around a bit more, immediately discovering something she’d overlooked… A slightly burned piece of parchment nailed to one of the three wooden posts sticking out of the ground.

_ I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for _

_ everything. This isn’t your fault. _

_ I did this. By the time you read this _

_ it’s already too late for you. _

_ Don’t let him into any more lives. _

_ This was all my fault. _

_ This can end with you. I let him in... _

_ Why did I ever let him in… _

_ I’m sorry for placing this burden on you. I _

_ wish it was all on me. This can’t _

_ spread any further. Please, it all has _

_ to end with you. I wish there was _

_ some other way. It has to end. _

_ God forgive me… _

Lauren finished reading the note Carl had left, filled with curiosity. He must have known she’d come the same way he had. What was Carl planning, and why was he asking her to help “end it”? Lauren’s eyes widened and her heart skipped a beat with the sudden realization. Carl was going to kill himself rather than face The Keeper again. Without stopping to think, Lauren took off running through the cave, barely even being able to see where she was going due to the dimming beam of her flashlight. She had to get to Carl immediately. Lauren felt a sudden, intense blast of heat as she reached the cave’s exit. She stood there with her mouth agape, looking on in horror at the raging forest fire before her.

It was burning hot and everything was enveloped in a smoky red haze. The sky was dark with smoke and the burning heat threatened to roast Lauren alive. She looked around frantically, hardly even able to comprehend the situation. Then, the whispers started. They were like the ones from before when she’d touched that teddy bear, except now they seemed agitated and harsh. Lauren found herself coughing and gasping for air as smoke rose all around her, not knowing what to do. Then, she saw the glowing red light atop the radio tower, glowing bright high above the trees.

It was so close… She wasn’t about to die now. Lauren took off through the inferno, sprinting along the dirt path and dodging falling trees and branches, heading towards her only sanctuary. Little did she know that it wouldn’t be so easy. With a thunderous boom, Der Großmann appeared right in front of her, sending the panicked woman skidding to a halt. The enraged demon loomed over her, hundreds of its tentacles stretching to unimaginable proportions. They shot up in the sky, snaked across the ground, and most importantly, writhed towards Lauren.

Immediately she began running in the opposite direction, still heading towards the radio tower. Although Der Großmann still terrified her beyond comprehension, Lauren knew she had to push that fear aside if she wanted to survive this. She pretended she couldn’t hear the snakelike tendrils writhing towards her. She pretended the pounding migraine wasn’t there. She pretended that her nose wasn’t gushing blood like a faucet. She pretended that her very bones didn’t ache from smoke inhalation and the endless running. These things might have seemed foolish, but they kept her alive. She dared not look behind her in fear that the migraine might overtake her if she did. Lauren ran, and ran, and ran, always keeping her eyes on the objective, until at long last she had made it. The radio tower was within reach.

Suddenly, a cold, black tendril wrapped around Lauren’s ankle and jerked her off her feet, causing her to drop her camera and flashlight. Fear, as she had never felt before, overtook Lauren as it began dragging her back down that final hill. Der Großmann stood at the bottom, awaiting his hard-earned prey. Lauren kicked and screamed until her throat was hoarse. Desperate tears uncontrollably streamed down her face and the taste of blood never left her mouth. “I’m sorry Kate, I’m sorry Carl”, she thought to herself, “I failed”. 

As Lauren was nearing the end of the line, an idea popped into her head. The demon had taken great care to avoid touching any of the flames engulfing the area, so that must mean… Not bothering to finish her thought, Lauren reached out and grabbed a flaming log lying on the ground. She screamed as it burned her hands, but fought through the pain and managed to flip herself over so that she was facing Der Großmann. The monstrosity bent over to grab ahold of her, and that’s when Lauren made one last desperate move.

Using all of her remaining strength, Lauren cracked the demon across the “face” with the burning log. It split on impact, but the effect was instantaneous. Immediately, Der Großmann reeled back, letting out a pained screech and releasing Lauren from its grasp. “Take that you son of a bitch!”, Lauren shouted as she watched its flesh bubble and burn. Unfortunately, the wounded flesh quickly began to heal over, making Lauren lose the ear-to-ear grin she’d had at the sight. She sprinted back up the hill, recovered her equipment, and ran faster than she’d ever run before. 

The tower stood tall right next to a brick radio station, the piercing red glow at its top a beacon of hope. A satanic roar echoed from behind Lauren as she neared the station, headed towards the open door. “Oh fuck”, she said, looking behind her. Der Großmann was done playing games. The demon was seemingly gliding along the ground towards her without a care in the world for the flames licking at it. It’s tentacles furiously swarmed towards her with the intent to kill. Lauren sprinted even faster towards the station. Closer, closer, closer… Finally, Lauren ran through the open door, slammed it shut, and locked it, hoping Kate and Carl had been right about the place being a safe haven.

A series of loud bangs and screeches from outside assaulted Lauren’s ears for a few minutes before finally dying down into silence. She had won. Lauren laid down on the cool, concrete floor, gasping for air and letting her aching muscles relax. Her migraine had stopped immediately after entering the radio station, and her nose had ceased gushing blood. The disembodied whispers had faded into silence as well. For whatever reason, this place was safe. A thought crossed Lauren’s mind. Perhaps the radio tower’s signal disrupted Der Großmann’s telepathic influence. That would explain why the demon wasn’t able to get inside, and why all of her ailments had mysteriously ceased. Yes, that had to be it. It couldn’t be anything else. Lauren felt a smile creep across her face as she thought about it. “Good thinking guys,” she laughed.

After a good long while of rest, Lauren pulled herself up off the ground and tried to get her bearings. The room she was in was a small one… It was more of a hallway with a wide entrance really. There were crates, boxes, and metal barrels stored to the left and an Emergency Public Warning System flyer was tacked onto the wall above them. The flyer was a mystery of its own since it was Alberta, Canada, that had used that system, not anywhere in the United States. Why was it there? Her thoughts returned to more pressing matters as Lauren surveyed the rest of the room. There were two metal doors on the right side of the hall, and one at the end. The first half of the right wall stopped abruptly before reaching the ceiling, and a chain-link fence was placed between the two.

“Of course it’s locked”, Lauren grumbled, after trying to open the door at the end of the hall. “There must be a key in here somewhere”. She decided to start back at square one and search the barrels and crates. Nothing. The first room to the right held four large wooden crates, but no key. Lauren crossed her fingers before entering the last room and was delighted with what she found. Around six or seven more barrels were clustered in a corner and a large storage rack with some boards placed on it and picnic tables leaned up against it took up the rest of the room. Atop one of the barrels sat a rusted key.

Lauren unlocked the door and cast the key aside, stepping into the darkness on the other side. A long, winding hall was ahead of her, with metal barrels, wooden crates, and storage racks placed haphazardly throughout it. As she began walking, Lauren suddenly heard a sharp creak echo throughout the hall… coming from behind her. Slow, menacing footsteps followed, accompanied by low growls and other eerie noises. Lauren’s eyes widened as she realized what that meant. “Oh god… no… please… anything but that,” she whispered. Without hesitation, she ran down the hall and away from the corpse-like monster pursuing her. Unfortunately, just as she rounded the first corner her flashlight flickered and died, leaving Lauren in total darkness.

“Dammit!” she shouted, casting it aside. As if that wasn’t bad enough, she noticed that her camera’s battery was nearly dead too. The only light Lauren had to guide her was the mysterious flames burning various wooden objects at every corner. At last, an open door came into sight as she finally reached the end of the hall. The smell of burned meat hit her as she neared the door, causing her to gag and cover her nose and mouth. Lauren finally managed to get through the door and slammed it shut behind her, locking it. The room she’d entered was another hallway, but it was a dead end. The remains of boards and a box burned in the corner of the room nearest to the door, and another fire burned at the opposite end. However, the fire was the least disturbing thing in that room.

_ Everywhere I turn it is there. Every time. _

_ I open my eyes, I see a dark shadow. _

_ In my home. In my dreams. EVERYWHERE. _

_ IT EATS AT ME _

_ Rips and tears and slashes my insides, my brain. _

_ It devours my EVERYTHING _

_ I must burn. I MUST BURN IT DOWN. _

_ Found me in the woods… _

_ Found me in the dark… WHAT ELSE DO I DO? _

_ YOU CAN NOT HIDE _

_ He will find you _

_ He always FINDS YOU and NEVER stops. STOP _

_ I am sorry for everything. _

_ Why did you come here? _

_ Run Run Run Run Run Run Run Run _

_ I can’t see _

_ I’m sorry _

_ RUN _

_ It was following me and it will not stop. _

_ Everything burns and melts and withers and falls apart. _

_ You are my only choice. _

_ YOU have to be here so I can go. _

_ You will burn with everything else. _

_ You are my only choice. _

_ It will tear your brain apart and you will watch. _

_ It turns my head inside out and I CANNOT CONTINUE LIVING THIS WAY _

_ This is something I have to do. _

_ Something I was told to do. _

_ Whispers from my only friend who is gone now. _

_ Everything must be burnt to the ground FOR ME TO BE FREE _

The writing on the walls had been done in white paint, just like the writing in the cave. Lauren’s body wracked with sobs as she stared at the ghastly sight at the hall’s end, just inches from her. _ I FAILED YOU _ was written largely on the wall in that same white paint, along with _ I’M SORRY _ , _ I FAILED YOU ALL _ , and _ I’M SO SORRY FOR EVERYTHING _. But by far the worst part was the charred corpse of Carl Ross slouched against the wall, burned to a crisp. Empty cans of kerosene were still scattered about and the remains of a fire smoldered next to him.

Lauren forced herself to tear her eyes away from the dreadful sight. Carl had actually done it. He’d burned himself to a crisp to avoid the same fate as Charlie. Lauren had nothing left. Her two best friends were dead, and she’d considered both of them to be family. She would’ve broken down right then and there if it hadn’t been for the footsteps pacing outside the door and occasional snarls. There was nothing for her to do now except wait for the inevitable end. Lauren was so lost in her grief that she almost failed to notice a partially melted camera beside Carl’s body. Wiping away her tears, Lauren took the camera in her shaky hands and attempted to turn it on. The screen was burned so badly it was incapable of turning on, but an audio clip played. It appeared to be a conversation that took place in Carl’s final moments.

_ “Let go!” _

_ “Kate… please…” _

_ “I…” _

_ “There’s no other way” _

_ “I can’t!” _

(Kate starts crying)

_ I can’t… _

_ “Kate…!” _

(Kate runs away)

_ “Oh god… No…” _

_ “I’m so sorry…” _

_ “Forgive me…” _

_ “I’m so sorry!” _

_ (At this point a high pitched noise begins to play as Carl sets himself on fire) _

_ (The rest of the recording consists of Carl screaming as he burns to death) _

Lauren had no words… no emotions. The combination of grief and horror had caused her to simply freeze up. Those awful screams still rang in her head. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed throughout the hall as the locked door slammed open. The fire next to it went out, shrouding that end of the hallway in darkness. Then, the feral roars of something long dead rang out as the decaying figure of Charlie Matheson Jr. charged towards Lauren. She had no time to react, as the monster was upon her in seconds. Lauren barely even had time to let out a scream. A fierce migraine pounded through her head as incoherent shapes and figures tinted with a sickening shade of blue splashed across her vision and camera feed, accompanied by loud, terrible noises. Then, there was nothing… Only darkness.


	12. The Other Side

A distorted, haunting tune filled the warm, muggy air. It was eerie, but in a weird way, the somber melody was soothing. Lauren’s eyes groggily opened and she sat up, only to be met with impenetrable darkness. Her eyes took a few minutes to adjust to the lighting, and even then she could only see a few feet in front of her. She stood up and tried to walk around, the sound of her shoes hitting wood barely audible. Almost immediately, she tripped over something small. Cursing to herself, she looked down to see that the offending object was a camcorder.

“This isn’t mine,” Lauren thought to herself. She flipped open the screen and turned the thing on, noticing that there was an option for night vision. After activating it Lauren was met with a surprise that was both welcome and unnerving. The good news was that she could now see what was around her. The bad news is that it wasn’t exactly pleasant. She was standing on a long boardwalk that wound its way through a thick mangrove forest. This wouldn’t have been so bad if there hadn’t been something horribly wrong with the place. 

The creepy music wasn’t just some figment of Lauren’s imagination… the camera was picking it up too. The forest also appeared to have a heavy effect on technology. The atmospheric disturbance was causing a fair amount of video tearing and distortion and was screwing with the night vision as well. Instead of being green, as it should’ve been, the night vision was now a corrupted, red-orange color. The tree trunks were a much deeper shade of crimson, almost appearing black… All of the darker objects were. However, things like the leaves on the trees, the boardwalk itself, and oddly enough, the sky, were much lighter.

“No fucking way,” Lauren muttered, recognizing the strange place. She was standing on the Victor Park Boardwalk. She’d come here with Noah a few times while she’d been in college with him. “I don’t understand,” Lauren whispered fearfully as she crept down the boardwalk. “Why am I here?” 

“Don’t you see? You’re here for our entertainment!” Lauren snapped her head to the left and looked up at the wooden observation tower situated there. Standing on the stairs was the silhouette from the Information Centre, but he was no longer a shadowy outline. Her heart skipped a beat as she recognized the college student standing in front of her. It was Kevin Haas, one of Noah’s best friends. 

“K… Kevin?” She stuttered. 

“Close, but not quite,” he responded, smiling wickedly. “While this body does belong to Kevin, he is no more than an unwilling vessel. As for me, I’m something else entirely. I guess you could say that I’m The Keeper’s right-hand man. I go by a few different names… The Sentinel, or The Eyes, for example, but I’m most commonly known as The Observer.” 

Lauren stared at him in horror. Kevin Haas, the dorky, funny guy she’d once known so well, had been reduced to nothing more than a puppet, possessed by the demonic entity speaking to her. She didn’t want to believe it, but his glowing white eyes proved without a doubt that it was true. 

“Why Kevin?” she asked. Out of all the people you could’ve taken over, why him?” 

“Are you sure you want to know? You’re not going to like my answer,” he said, walking over to her. Then, he smirked again before saying; “After Milo, Kevin was the next best way to get at Noah.” 

Lauren snapped. She lunged at The Observer with rage as she’d never felt before. “What the fuck did you just say?” she practically screamed, catching The Observer off guard. She clocked him in the side of the head with her camera and would have done worse if he hadn’t forcefully thrown her into a bench. She quickly stood back up, glaring at him. “You leave Noah out of this! If you lay so much as a finger on him I’ll kill you myself!” 

The Observer let out a hysterical cackle, amused by Lauren’s outburst. “You’re just like him, you know that? So emotional… so easy to anger. It’s no wonder you two have such strong feelings for each other.”

Lauren’s eyes widened in shock, and The Observer knew that he’d gained the upper hand. “Surprised? Don’t be. We know everything about you. Your fears… your weaknesses… your insecurities. We know Noah’s too. You learn a lot about someone after watching them for most of their life.”

Once again, Lauren was taken aback. “Yes, Noah is far more important than you could ever realize,” The Observer drawled. “Unlike you, he serves a real purpose, and although there have been a few inconveniences along the way, his fate is sealed in stone.”

“What do you mean?” Lauren asked, growing fearful.

The Observer simply watched her for a moment, enjoying this little game. “Noah Maxwell is our Keeper’s top priority. His actions could mean our victory or our demise. It is very important that we get him to deliver a powerful artifact to us, which is proving to be increasingly difficult. However, it’s inevitable that he will die by our hand, and will be reborn as one of us… one of The Collective.”

“You won’t do shit. I know Noah. He won’t stop fighting until you, your Keeper, and all of you Collective assholes are dead. Besides, Daddy-Long-Legs isn’t even all that powerful. He’s had so many different chances to kill me and still couldn’t manage it.” Lauren boasted.

“You haven’t seen the full extent of His power… not even close,” The Observer growled. “He was only toying with you up until the forest fire. We had a perfect trap planned… and you would’ve died in those woods if that bastard Firebrand hadn’t torched the place.”

“Firebrand… you mean F? He lit the fire?” she asked.

The Observer let out a slight chuckle. “Yes, F’s name is Firebrand. I sometimes forget how he likes to remain anonymous.” The Observer’s tone then changed to something more sinister. “Of course he lit the fire. Did you honestly think that normal flames could harm our Keeper the way those did? Firebrand’s abilities have evolved into something… quite nasty,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. He then noticed Lauren smirking, and decided to really get under her skin. “You know, it would’ve saved us a whole lot of trouble if we’d killed Noah instead of Milo.”

Not even The Observer could’ve prepared for what came next. In an instant, Lauren had reached him and delivered a powerful right hook into his face. “Fuck!” The Observer cursed, backing away and clutching his glasses, which now had cracks in one of the lenses. “Bad move, girl,” he said, his voice becoming deep and demonic as he was once again engulfed in shadow. “I think it’s time you learned who your superiors are.” Without another word, he materialized a knife from thin air and drove it into her side. Lauren yelped, clutching her wound as The Observer disappeared without a trace.

Lauren groaned in pain, doing what she could to clot the blood. Suddenly, the haunting tune filling the air shifted into something much more ominous… something disturbing. The boardwalk grew even darker, causing the camera’s night vision to become an even deeper shade of red. “I have to get out of here,” she whimpered, limping down the boardwalk. She didn’t know where she was going, but anywhere was better than that observation tower.

The Observer’s insane laughter rang out as she frantically stumbled away from the tower, trying to ignore the bloodshot eyes popping up everywhere. They manifested on trees, leaves, and even the holes in the boardwalk. Then there were the hands… Some were bloody, some were skeletal, and some were even burned. All of them were reaching up from beneath the boardwalk, trying to drag her down into the abyss below. Lauren could only run, run and pray that there was an exit to this hell. Suddenly, she crashed into something huge, something sticky. She couldn’t move. It was like she was being held in place by unseen tendrils. Then, Lauren heard a high pitched screech as she realized with horror what she was ensnared in; a spider’s web.

Lauren could see huge, glowing yellow eyes in the darkness. The more she struggled, the faster the enormous black spider closed in on her. Its fangs were dripping with venom, and its massive legs allowed it to cross the boardwalk with great speed. She started hyperventilating as it grew closer and closer. She let out a scream of pure terror as it finally reached her. However, before the monstrosity could seize Lauren and put an end to her struggle, a pale, burned hand gripped her wrist, and she was gone.

**(X)**

Trembling and breathing frantically, Lauren slowly opened her eyes, taking in her new surroundings. She was in a small neighborhood, and it was late in the night. Dim street lights did their job well enough, and swarms of moths flew around them. The temperature was surprisingly warm, and katydids and crickets called to each-other without rest. It was certainly a welcome change from that boardwalk… but something wasn’t right. This place felt eerie… unnatural. Something was off about the neighborhood, but she wasn’t sure what it was. Little did she know that the camera she carried was picking up a strange audio distortion, and deep, purple static was always prevalent in the video. “Lauren!” a familiar voice suddenly called out. She turned around, gasping in surprise.

It was… Noah. He was wearing a black, long-sleeved shirt, black sweatpants, and black shoes. His dark hair came down to his upper neck, and his beard was rather unkempt. But something was horribly wrong. He was covered in burn scars, and his eyes were pitch black. The only sign of life within them were his pupils, burning white with unholy power. Noah had a dark, disturbing look about him; as if he wasn’t entirely human anymore. “Wait,” Lauren thought, looking at him. Burns, demonic aura, piercing white eyes… white eyes… like pinholes. “N… No… You can’t be,” Lauren stuttered, holding back tears. She’d already lost four of her friends to The Keeper, and now she’d lost a fifth. “You’re… Firebrand.” Firebrand smiled warmly at her and chuckled. 

“Don’t worry, the Noah you know is doing just fine… for now, anyway.” Lauren blinked a few times, staring at him. 

“What?” she said, confused by his statement.

“Listen to me, the Noah you know is very different from me… for now, anyway. I know this is going to sound completely insane, but I’m Noah from the future. In my time, I was assimilated into the Collective and sent back in time to infiltrate them after I was freed from servitude, and I’ve been working to destroy them ever since. It’s inevitable that Noah becomes what I am, Lauren. It has to happen in order to complete the cycle… to complete the paradox created by the first Firebrand so long ago. I’ve been helping you, Kate, my past self, and countless others for years now, ever since we started taking the fight to The Administrator.”

Lauren was in absolute shock. She could only stare stupidly at the man in front of her, trying to process everything he’d just said. Finally, she swallowed nervously and responded. “You know what, Firebrand? Out of all the weird shit that’s happened to me in the last few days, this is somehow more believable than most of it.” Firebrand actually laughed aloud, surprised by his old friend’s blunt statement.”

“You’re certainly more accepting of this than I was,” he joked. His expression then turned serious, and he began walking towards her. “Forgive me, it’s been a long time since I’ve talked so casually with someone. This is no time for small talk. Follow me… there’s someone you need to meet.” Lauren followed him down the street, glancing at the thin scars on the palms of his hands, well aware that they were more like eyelids than cuts. She didn’t know where they were going, or who they were meeting. She knew that Firebrand was a friend, and trusted him with her life… but still had one question for him.

“Hey, Firebrand?”

“Yes?”

“Who are you taking me to see?” Firebrand let out a long sigh at her question and answered with the utmost seriousness.

“I want you to listen to me very closely, Lauren. The person we’re about to speak with is very dangerous, maybe even more so than The Keeper or The Collective. Don’t do anything to piss him off, or it might just be the last thing you do.”

Lauren looked at him fearfully before responding; “What’s this guy’s name?”

“His name… is Habit,” he responded.

A lone man sat at a table on a wooden bridge, one that crossed a small valley of trees, watching as his ally approached with the woman he’d heard so much about. He wore simple clothing; blue jeans, brown shoes, a black T-shirt, and a gray flannel jacket that was torn in places and stained with blood. He wore a black and white hat, and his dark brown hair came down to his lower neck. His eyes were a deep shade of purple, and he had a cold, calculating look about him.

“Brandy!” Habit called out as the two stepped onto the bridge. “It’s about fucking time! I’ve been waiting forever!” Lauren was taken aback by Habit’s cheerful, carefree demeanor. He wasn’t at all like she’d been expecting. 

“Don’t let your guard down,” Firebrand whispered. “He can change moods in a heartbeat.” Before she could respond, he was already talking with Habit and pulling out two more chairs, beckoning for Lauren to come sit down. She did as she was asked, keeping a nervous eye on her newest ally. 

“So, you’re this Lauren I’ve heard so much about,” he asked, offering his hand. 

“I am,” she said, shaking hands with him. “You must be Habit.” 

“Indeed I am,” he said, with a sly grin. After the introductions were out of the way, the three got down to business. 

“So, first thing’s first. You’re probably wondering exactly what the hell is going on,” Firebrand said. “You were taken to the boardwalk by The Collective after the incident at the radio tower, but you weren’t exactly brought to a normal place if you hadn’t caught on already. You were in another plane of existence, one that exists between your world and this one. We call it… The Crawlspace. I know that might be hard to believe, but…”

“I’m not even going to question this stuff anymore, Firebrand,” she responded. Habit let out an amused cackle before turning to Firebrand;

“This one learns quickly! A lot faster than you did, my friend!” Firebrand simply shook his head at Habit’s antics.

“I have a question though. You said that the Crawlspace exists between my world and this one… So what exactly is this place?” Lauren inquired. 

“Well, I won’t go into too much detail, but this dimension is known as The Candleverse. It’s a dark, twisted version of your world where monsters roam free. Sometimes, they even manage to cross over into other dimensions.” Firebrand responded. 

“Monsters? Brandy, I’m hurt?” Habit said, pretending to be offended.

“You know what I mean, and why the hell do you keep calling me Brandy?” 

“Because it annoys you.” 

Lauren couldn’t help but laugh at the childish banter between the two. This was turning out to be a lot more fun than it should’ve been. “Anyway,” Habit continued, “This place doesn’t exactly have a very good effect on humans, so we have to make this little meeting quick.” 

“But, aren’t you human too? Or are you something more, like Firebrand?” she asked.

“I can assure you that I’m far from human. My true form is something far beyond the comprehension of normal humans, but a living host catalyzes my power. Simply put, I’m possessing this man.” 

“Jesus, was it a 10 for 1 sale on possessions or something?” Lauren muttered, causing both Firebrand and Habit to laugh. “Who is he?” she asked.

“His name is Evan Jennings. He’s a friend of Noah’s from New Jersey, which is actually where we are right now… the Candleverse version of New Jersey, that is,” Habit responded. 

“What’s with all of Noah’s friends getting possessed?” she thought. 

“I didn’t go after Evan because of his connection to Noah if that’s what you’re thinking. They met through a mutual enemy, the big bad Stick-In-The-Mud, long after my plans were set in stone. Noah is our ally in this fight, and I have no intention of hurting him. Just remember that.” After Habit finished his explanation, Lauren looked at Firebrand questioningly. 

“We saw what you did to The Observer,” he said, smirking with glee. 

“Nice punch!” Habit added. “By the way, did you even notice that your stab wound is gone? That right there is thanks to yours truly.” 

Lauren looked down at where her wound had been, and sure enough, it had vanished. “Thank you,” she said, looking back up. 

“Don’t mention it. Now, there’s something that me and Firebrand have been wondering for a long time… How the fuck did you manage to remain so oblivious to everything for so long? Especially when not only do you have the internet at your fingertips, but you’re a private investigator as well?” Habit inquired. 

Lauren was taken aback by his question. “What do you mean?” she asked.

“I can understand not believing in urban legends, but to never hear of one is another story, especially considering your line of work, and its popularity,” Habit said. “At the very least, you must have heard about The Slenderman before!” 

Lauren’s jaw dropped as she put two and two together. “You mean that online horror story is fucking real? That’s The Keeper? Holy shit… I can’t believe I never realized that until now,” she said in disbelief. Firebrand let out a sigh before speaking; 

“I can hardly blame you. The last thing I’d be worried about in your current situation is an internet horror story,” he said. “That, and the whole Slenderman craze was just one big cover-up story.” 

“That’s right,” Habit said, noticing Lauren’s curious expression. “There’s a whole group of people out there who know about The Administrator but want to keep His existence a secret. My first guess would’ve been The Foundation if I didn’t know any better.”

“Wait, what’s The Foundation?” Lauren asked. 

“The Foundation is an organization entrusted by governments worldwide with the task of securing, containing, and protecting the civilian population from anomalous objects, entities, and phenomena,” Firebrand said. “They do their best to keep these ‘anomalies’ top secret and away from the general public, as well as enemy hands. However, even a cause as noble as theirs has its flaws. The Keeper was the one anomaly they could never contain, and they elected to deny His existence long ago because of it. Oddly enough, they’re not the ones who tricked everyone into thinking He was just a made-up story.” 

“Who would that be?” Lauren said. 

“Before we get into that, you need to know a few things,” Habit said. First of all, you should probably know about all of the YouTube channels of people documenting their encounters with The Slenderman. Most of them are fake, obviously, but there are a few that are legit. TribeTwelve, EverymanHYBRID, DarkHarvest00, MLAnderson0, WhisperedFaith, and even MarbleHornets are all real. Oh, and guess what? TribeTwelve is run by Noah. I’m not sure how you never picked up on that one.” 

Lauren sat there for a moment, taking it all in. “So you’re telling me that this thing is hurting people all over the world, and no one is doing anything about it?” she asked. 

“That’s part of the reason we told you about those channels, yes,” Firebrand said. “But there’s another, much more important reason… There are actually TWO Slendermen, one of which has only been brought to the public eye with the MarbleHornets videos.” 

“There’s two of those monsters?” Lauren spluttered. She was feeling lightheaded. One Slenderman was bad enough, but now there were TWO? 

“Not quite,” Firebrand responded. “The other one is known as The Operator. We’re not entirely sure what it is, only that it’s a much weaker, less threatening version of The Keeper. It’s still dangerous, but it’s not nearly as much of a threat. It has almost none of the abilities that The Administrator does. It even looks a little different.” 

“It’s a menace for sure, but hardly a concern at the moment. Our real concern lies with The Keeper,” Firebrand continued. “He’s a mysterious one, you know that? None of us know where He really came from or what created Him. It's a secret that He protects above all others. Not even The Observer knows. Hell, The Administrator himself might not even know. What we do know is that He has one hell of a history. He’s racked up quite a few names over the years too; The Keeper, The Administrator, The Slenderman, Der Großmann, Gorr'Rylaehotep… the names change, he doesn't. That last one, however, has put us in a whole world of trouble.” 

“Gorr'Rylaehotep is the name used by the Egyptians who worshipped Him as some sort of deity.” Habit said. “A long time ago, a group of people found the Egyptian lore and started a cult to worship Gorr'Rylaehotep. This cult eventually grew into a worldwide secret society called The Order. The worst part is how influential they are. They’ve infiltrated the police, the media, the military, and even governments worldwide. They’re the reason that all of these cases with The Keeper are never solved. They’re covering up everything, and their most successful cover-up by far was the “creation” of The Slenderman.” 

“Back in 2009, a member of The Order, a man named Eric Knudsen, decided to do something about the growing reports of disappearances and paranormal activity caused by The Keeper. He went to the Something Awful forums using the username “Victor Surge”, and took part in a competition to create creepy, photoshopped images. He submitted two pictures of The Keeper, or as he titled it; “The Slenderman”, and posted them with the intent of tricking everyone into thinking He was nothing more than a made-up story. It worked flawlessly and spread like wildfire. Knudsen was hailed as a hero by The Order, but created a royal pain in the ass for the rest of us,” Firebrand finished. 

No sooner had Firebrand finished speaking than Lauren began coughing heavily, and her nose started dripping blood. “Looks like this place is finally taking its toll on her,” Habit said. 

“Indeed it does. Thank god we got to tell her everything important before we had to send her back,” Firebrand responded. 

“Send me back? What do you mean send me back?” Lauren asked. 

“Send you back to your body, Lauren” Firebrand said. “You’ve been unconscious for quite some time now, and this place isn’t safe for you anymore.” 

Lauren looked at him with a worried expression. “So all of this was just a dream… It’s not real? she asked. 

  
Firebrand laughed, and responded quickly, knowing how fast the Candleverse was tearing her apart. “This may all be happening in your head, but that doesn’t mean it’s not real.” Lauren then felt an overwhelming sense of drowsiness, and her eyes closed involuntarily as everything went dark.


	13. Dark and Damp

The dull buzz of an old light echoed throughout the cold, dark room, accompanied by deep, raspy breathing. Lauren’s eyes shot open and she sat upright, everything that had happened only moments ago rushing through her head. The old tile floor she was laying on was dirty and covered in ashes. She faced a brick wall with an old, decrepit pallet leaned up against it. Her camera had been placed on the floor beside her. She grabbed the device and immediately noticed that the battery icon was empty and blinking red. The battered woman didn’t even have the willpower left to make a sarcastic remark and stood up to take in her surroundings, brushing soot off of her clothes. 

The basement was dimly lit by an old, flickering pendant light that slightly swung from its rusted hinges. Three red, metal support poles were the sole reason that the burned, wooden ceiling hadn’t caved in yet. There was one in each corner of the main room, except for the top right corner, where a wooden, upward staircase stood. The walls were brick, and there were two side rooms to Lauren’s left and right, separated from the main room only by scorched wall framing. An old, moldy bathtub stood at the bottom left corner of the room. The top left corner was cluttered with cardboard boxes, some small and some large. One even stood tall atop a wooden pallet, and an old ventilation duct could be seen in the same corner as well. However, there was something else in the room as well. The source of the raspy breathing was none other than Charlie, who was crouched on the stairs, surveying the area.

Lauren stared at him, and he stared back… motionless. He was even more terrifying in the dim light of the basement, but despite his frightening appearance, he seemed more curious than threatening. Lauren decided to just get the obvious blunder out of the way and approached the stairs. Charlie continued to watch her, daring her to come forward. Her heart pounded as she stepped towards the creature, not knowing what was going to happen. Charlie snarled and let out a low growl, warning her to stay back. “Ok… ok. I’m sorry,” Lauren said, backing away. Charlie seemed pleased by this and ceased the hostility. “I don’t know what the fuck I’m supposed to do now,” Lauren mumbled, slumping to the ground.

A few minutes passed before she said anything to the undead boy. “I’m sorry this happened to you,” Lauren said, turning to face him. “You don’t deserve any of this… None of us do.” Charlie appeared to be listening and had his head slightly tilted. “I’ve been through a lot these last few days, but I haven’t suffered nearly as much as you. None of us have. Not me, not Kate, not Carl… I’m so sorry, Charlie. You deserve a good life, not whatever this is,” Lauren finished. 

“Why you not afraid?” Charlie rasped.

Lauren jumped slightly, startled that he was still capable of talking. “Why aren’t I afraid of what?” she asked.

“Me.”

Lauren pondered this question for a moment before answering. “Since the first time I saw you, I only ever thought of you as a victim, not a monster.” 

“We both victims,” Charlie said. “Most people afraid of me… but not you. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lauren said to him, smiling. Then she remembered the gravity of the situation and returned to the task at hand. “Why are you keeping me here,” she asked.

“Protecting,” Charlie responded. “You not safe. Burned man say to keep you here.”

“Burned man… you mean Firebrand?” Lauren questioned. Charlie perked up when he heard that name. He wasn’t aware that his friend knew the lady personally. 

“Firebrand is a friend. I was a slave, but he freed me. So I help him. Wanted you to see something.”

“What did he want to show me?” Lauren asked.

“Answers,” Charlie responded, pointing toward the left side room. Lauren glanced at him questioningly before walking over to the room, looking through the door frame. It was a fairly small area, and was cluttered with cardboard boxes. A rather large one was placed in the bottom right corner, and another tall, upright box stood atop a pallet in the top right corner of the room. In the top-left corner of the room were three large boxes stacked like a pyramid, and the bottom left corner there was nothing. However, the boxes were meaningless. The true oddity was the jumbled mass of envelopes piled on the floor at the center of the room. Thirteen of them were marked 1 through 13 in red marker, and the fourteenth envelope featured a question mark. Lastly, there was a crumpled up ball of paper. Lauren wasted no time, and began to open the letters in order and read them. Some were handwritten, and some were printed emails… 

**(1.)**

_ Hey Kate. _

_ It’s been awhile since we last spoke, hasn’t it? Hope you haven’t _

_ forgotten about me! I know writing a letter is a little old fashioned _

_ but sometimes I like to just sit down and write something out, _

_ you know? So, I can’t remember what I was doing at the time, _

_ but all this stuff we used to do when we were kids just came _

_ rushing back to me all of a sudden the other day. Remember _

_ when I’d sneak over at night so we could both go out on our _

_ adventures? Ghost hunting, we called it. We’d shine the flashlight _

_ through the trees and jump at every little insignificant noise. _

_ Our imaginations were always working in overdrive. I wish I could _

_ rewind back to then. Seems like everything after that time just _

_ hasn’t been as good. For both of us. _

_ How long has it been again? It’s been at least a couple of years _

_ hasn’t it? She was always kind of mean to me. Maybe she _

_ actually knew about us sneaking out all the time. Guess we’ll never… _

_ Sorry, ignore all of that, I started rambling too much. Anyway, _

_ please let me hear from you soon. I know things have been less _

_ than normal for you lately, so I just wanted to check in. -CR _

**(2.)**

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co**

**From: <unknown sender>**

**Sent: Sun 23/11 8:43:33 AM**

**Subject: RE: Good to hear fro…**

**Attachments:**

Thanks for calling last night. It probably sounds dumb,

but it was good to hear your voice again. Good to hear

that Lauren’s been doing really well too. But, yeah, about

what all we said: I’m not sure what to think of it yet. 

What are the odds of two people having the exact same

hallucination? Could it really just be a coincidence?

I have to go to my doctor today for some routine stuff so

I’m going to try and casually bring this up and see what

he says about it. I’ll let you know how it goes.

\--- CR

**(3.)**

_ Hey Kate. _

_ Both my computer and my phone have been acting weird _

_ lately so I figured I’d do it the old fashioned way again. _

_ Glad we could meet up to talk things through. I agree with _

_ what the doctor said, too. There’s an explanation for this stuff. _

_ The shared traumatic event sounds the most logical to me. _

_ That night out there in the woods is probably what caused it. _

_ I had almost completely blocked that out, but now it’s kind of _

_ coming back to me. But like I said before, it’s still really foggy. _

_ I think the best course of action right now is to just ignore it _

_ whenever you think you might be seeing things again. I’ll try to _

_ do the same. That’ll probably do the trick. _

_ -CR _

_ PS: You should call Lauren sometime. I bet some _

_ company would help out. _

**(4.)**

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co**

**From: <unknown sender>**

**Sent: Mon 27/02 7:27:43 AM**

**Subject: RE: RE: checking in**

**Attachments:**

Yeah it hasn’t been working out for me either. It’s one

thing to ignore something you know is just a hallucination.

It’s something else entirely to ignore all the noises I hear

outside my window at night now, because I can’t see

whatever it is that’s making them. Anything like that hap-

pening around there with you? It sometimes sounds like

whispers. 

Your Friend,

-CR

**(5.)**

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co** ****  
**From: <unknown sender>** **  
** **Sent: Sun 04/03 7:35:33 AM**

**Subject: RE: RE: RE: RE: checki…**

**Attachments:**

I mentioned it to my doctor again when I saw him today.

He really wants you to come in sometime just to talk with

him. I think it’s a good idea. He also said that confronting

this traumatic event in some way could be very beneficial

too. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell him any specifics about what

happened. I do think we should go back out to that park

behind your mom’s house sometime soon. I think being

out there and seeing nothing will help get rid of these

stupid problems we’ve both been having.

-CR

**(6.)**

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co** **  
** **From: <unknown sender>**

**Sent: Wed 27/03 9:35:13 PM**

**Subject: You okay?**

**Attachments:**

I tried to find my way back to you when I tripped and fell

down that slope, but my flashlight hit one of the rocks

down there and broke. It was pitch black. I heard sounds

all around me. Screaming. It sounded like you. I tried to

follow it back but I was lost. I fell. Everything collapsed

down around me. I could feel it crushing me. Everything

was moving so fast. I was drowning in water I couldn’t

see. Every fear I’ve ever had came back to me at once.

Monsters surrounded me. My stomach inverted, my eyes

shriveled out of existence, and my heart caved in. I don’t

know what happened after that. I woke up in some tall

grass today and found my way back to your house. I looked

through the window and saw you sitting on the couch, star-

ing at your TV. I couldn’t get your attention so I left. I

can’t write anymore. I can’t think straight. I need to

**(7.)**

** _I am okay Kate._ **

** _The woods are beautiful_ **

** _please come see._ **

** _I am going to find_ **

** _you so you can see._ **

** _It is so beautiful Kate_ **

**(8.)**

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co** **  
** **From: <unknown sender>**

**Sent: Fri 29/03 5:52:20 AM**

**Subject: RE: You okay?**

**Attachments:**

I’ve tried to call you dozens of times. Where are you?

Please call me back and let me know you’re okay. If I

don’t hear back in an hour, I’m coming over there.

**(9.)**

_ Kate, leaving this note in case you wake up _

_ tonight. I’m going to assume you don’t remember what _

_ happened. I came over to check on you and found _

_ you out in that park behind the house. _

_ You had a broken video camera with you and _

_ a bag full of weird drawings. I don’t know what _

_ happened out there but you’re safe now. _

_ The doctors here will help you. _

_ -CR _

**(10.)**

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co** **  
** **From: <unknown sender>**

**Sent: Fri 12/04 7:52:12 AM**

**Subject: RE: Back home**

**Attachments:**

Glad you’re feeling better, but that house is too close to the

woods. It’s too isolated. You need to go somewhere else.

I know a place that I think will be safer for you to stay.

I’m going to go with you, because my house doesn’t feel

safe anymore. I nailed all the windows shut but I still feel

too open. I haven’t slept in a few weeks either. I’m so

tired. Let’s get out of here, Kate. I promise I’ll keep you

safe.

-CR

**(11.)**

_ Outside. _

_ I need to die before it catches me. _

_ I’m sorry for any part that is my fault. _

_ Everything is leaking out the back of my head. _

_ Hands have teeth. _

_ Please tell no one I loved them. It’s back now. _

_ Hide _

**(12.)**

** _The house had to go._ **

** _It can’t save me anymore._ **

**(13.)**

_ Meet me by the street in an hour. _

_ I left a list of things to bring with you. _

_ Leave everything else behind. I’ll explain everything _

_ as soon as I see you. I know how to fix all of this. _

_ Don’t tell Lauren about me _

_ CR _

**(?)**

**To: kmilens@bserv.adv.co** **  
** **From: <unknown sender>**

**Sent: #####{$InvalidTimeStamp}#**

**Subject: RE: Fun Times Ahead**

**Attachments:**

Kate,

This is pretty exciting, isn’t it? This whole mystery: the missing

boy, the sightings, the arson.

I’m glad I get to share this adventure with you. I can’t help but feel

saddened for Mr. Matheson. He lost so much. I wish he would have

just let me in to help him- the way you’re helping me. Maybe I

could have saved him.

Since I couldn’t help him in life, maybe I can help him now. I

promise to find out what happened to his son- perhaps that will put

his soul at peace.

Thanks again, Kate. I look forward to our adventures!

-CR

Lauren put that final letter down, pondering everything she’d just read. She’d just witnessed Carl’s descent into madness, and the most disturbing part was that it appeared to have been going on for a lot longer than she’d thought. This all started long before Kate’s fateful trip to Riverview Park, perhaps even before Carl visited the Matheson Farm. The dates on some of the letters and their actual content were proof of that. Three of the letters, however, stood out to her more than the others. Letter #7 wasn’t particularly strange, it had just been written on a scrap of paper ripped out of a notebook. Letter #12, however, was more concerning. Carl hadn’t burned a house down, as far as she knew. It wasn’t even his handwriting on the note… and why was the scrap of paper that it was written on burned? Letter #9 was one that Lauren now remembered Carl writing. The “North Cross Hospital” emblem at the top of the paper jogged her memory. He’d written that the day he’d found her outside of Riverview Park.

The most chilling part of these letters, however, was that Lauren remembered nothing about them. Surely she would’ve remembered her friends having these problems before they knew what they actually were and hid them from her, so why didn’t she? They must have told her about them, but no matter how hard Lauren tried, she couldn’t remember any of it. It was as if her memory had been completely wiped of these incidents, and if that was the case, what else had she been forced to forget? As she thought about this, she remembered that crumpled ball of paper that was with the rest of the letters. She rummaged through the pile of torn envelopes until she found what she was looking for.

_ Kate, _

_ I want to see you again. I can’t stop thinking _

_ about you, Kate. About us. I’m sorry for what _

_ happened in the park- maybe I shouldn’t have _

_ said those things. I know you may not feel the _

_ same way, but I don’t want to let you go. I _

_ hope someday you’ll change your mind. I’ll be _

_ here waiting for you. Please, just think about _

_ it some more. I have so many things I want to _

_ show you, so many things I want to share with _

_ you. I want to protect you. I hope we can at _

_ least still be friends. _

_ Yours truly, _

_ Carl-Ross _

Lauren had a strange mixture of emotions going on now. It appeared that after so many years of friendship, Carl had decided to make a move on Kate. However, something about that didn’t sit right with Lauren. Carl had always been the big brother of their group, with the two girls being like the little siblings he’d always wanted. Lauren knew for a fact that none of them had ever felt about each other romantically in any way, so her best guess was that she was either interpreting the letter wrong, or Slender Man had messed with Carl’s head enough to make him start confusing his relationships. “Either way, I guess it doesn’t matter anymore,” Lauren said sadly, letting the paper ball fall out of her hand and standing up. She turned around and let out a scream, jumping back slightly. Charlie had appeared right in front of her as the light flickered. “Holy shit, Charlie. Please, don’t do that again,” she gasped.

“Sorry,” he apologized, teleporting back to the stairs.

After Lauren recuperated from her latest heart attack, she walked over to Charlie. “So now that I’ve seen those letters, can I leave now?” She asked.

“Not yet,” Charlie responded. “More to see,” he said, pointing to the other side room. Lauren sighed and headed into the other room. Maybe the boy would let her leave after she saw whatever this room contained. Surprisingly, it was even smaller than the other room. All it contained was a wooden table that held a large cardboard box, as well as a scorched notebook, a burned scrap of paper, and an old, yellowed sheet of printer paper. Lauren picked up the burned scrap, her eyes widening as she realized that the note was written by none other than Charles Matheson, Charlie’s father. 

_ What’s wrong with this place? _

_ Why did this happen to us? _

_ No answers anywhere I look. Am I crazy? _

_ These things I see at night… _

_ I don’t know what to think. _

_ Ever since Charlie disappeared and Diane left- _

_ I must have hit a breaking point. _

_ I still keep looking, _

_ I still hear him sometimes, that cute little laugh. _

_ But he’s been gone 9 years. _

_ Why does every day have to hurt so much? _

_ -Charles _

It appeared that Charles had been driven to madness by his guilt, and to add insult to injury, his wife left him during his time of need. Lauren set the burned note down and reached for the charred notebook. It was opened to two pages, the only ones still legible due to the fire damage. 

** _(Page 1)_ **

_ This Guy keeps stopping by my house _

_ asking about my son. _

_ I keep telling him to go away _

_ He’s getting more and more desperate _

** _(Page 2)_ **

_ I still see him. _

_ I keep looking for him. _

_ It can’t be him though. _

_ I know it can’t. But it’s so real. _

_ Everywhere I go, I hear his voice… _

_ but it sounds like he’s suffering. _

_ Like its not the son I knew. _

_ I can’t escape this torment. _

_ This man… this thing. He taunts me. _

_ He eats at my mind. _

_ Am I doing this to myself? _

_ Was it my fault Charlie disappeared? _

_ Is this my trial… or my punishment? _

_ I need to end it, _

_ I need to cleanse this place. _

_ No more suffering. _

_ No one deserves this. _

_ It all ends here. It all needs to go. _

So Charles had also been haunted by The Slenderman. It wasn’t surprising considering everything else that demon did to the Matheson Family. Lauren found herself growing angry, and picked up Charles’ final letter; his suicide note.

_ I see people everywhere, who remind me of the man I _

_ could have become. They understand the rules so well. _

_ It’s like the rules of the great game of life were never _

_ taught to me. Everything I ever worked towards is gone. _

_ Everything I loved has been taken away from me. I’m an _

_ empty shell of a man, living in this world of constant _

_ noise. Failure after failure. No one left to love. No one _

_ left to love me back. This world is nothing but noise _

_ now! And I can’t understand any of it! I see everyone _

_ else wading through the noise like they are part of it, _

_ familiar with it. While I struggle and drown as some un- _

_ wanted outsider. None of it makes sense. And I’m alone _

_ in it all. No more job. No more family. I can never re- _

_ build it all. I’m a hopeless excuse for a man. I need to _

_ get out. Imagine being trapped in a game where you don’t _

_ understand the rules, clumsily trying to understand how _

_ to make it through. But you can’t. You can’t progress. I _

_ thought I knew the rules, but it was a lie. You see every- _

_ one else whizzing by like it’s so easy. And no one tells me! _

_ No one cares about my game. I’m alone in this forsaken _

_ nightmare! Because I don’t belong in it! I need to log _

_ off, I need to get out of it. I need to rest. I need _

_ tranquility. I need to feel like I belong somewhere. I’m _

_ not sorry for this because I don’t owe this damn world _

_ anything, and I can never forgive life. So goodbye, and _

_ good luck with your own game. _

_ -Charles M. _

So that was it then. The real arsonist was Charles Matheson. He’d set his own house on fire with himself inside in order to die. However, that didn’t explain why the authorities had found him in the basement. Suddenly, Lauren heard footsteps from behind her. She turned around to see Charlie holding the burned piece of paper that had been in Letter #12. Without a word, he placed it on the table with the rest of the notes from his father. Lauren put two and two together, realizing that Charles had written that note as well, and Carl had found it during one of his investigations. “That makes a lot more sense,” Lauren whispered. Charlie knew what she meant, and returned to the stairs to wait for her.

Lauren took a few minutes to process everything she’d just learned. It was an ironic twist of fate that Carl had suffered the same fate as Charles, the man he wanted so badly to help. They’d lost so during their slow descent into insanity, and both of their lives had ended in fire. Lauren said a silent goodbye to both of them before returning to Charlie at the stairs. She felt so bad for him… the poor kid had been through so much. “I’m sorry about your dad, Charlie,” she said to him. “I know what it’s like to lose people you love. I lost two friends in these last couple of days, but they were like family to me.” Tears began to flow from her eyes as she thought about never seeing Kate or Carl again. Wanting to comfort her, Charlie stood up and stepped away from the stairs in order to get her attention. 

“Friend?” he asked, holding his hand out to her. She smiled at him and took his hand in hers. 

“Friend,” she confirmed. Charlie smiled and giggled, overjoyed that he’d made a new companion. Suddenly, loud crying began upstairs. 

“Friend,” Charlie said, still smiling while pointing upwards. 

“Oh my god,” Lauren uttered before bolting up the stairs, leaving behind an amused Charlie. She knew that voice anywhere… It was Kate.

Lauren stopped abruptly as she reached the top of the stairs, realizing where she was. She’d just stepped into the burned remains of the Matheson house. She took a deep breath and crept through the house, still mentally scarred from her previous experience in this place. “Kate?” she whispered, making her way through the winding maze of ash and burned wood, hardly even noticing that all of the doors were sealed, until at last she came across an empty room, and near the back of the room was her best friend, crouched on the floor and crying her eyes out. 

Kate looked like she’d been through hell and back. Her eyes were dark and fearful, her skin was deathly pale, and she was covered in soot. Her red T-shirt was torn in places, as well as her blue jeans and tan tennis shoes. Her long black hair was dirty and matted, and her arms' skin was covered in scratches. None of this mattered to Lauren though, her best friend was alive, and that was all she cared about. “Kate, it’s me,” she said, tears of joy streaming down her face. “It’s Lauren.” Kate looked up to see her friend, but started crying even harder and looked back at the floor. 

“No… stay away… please…” Kate sobbed. 

“It’s ok, Kate. I’m here now. Everything’s going to be alright,” Lauren said, stepping towards her friend. Then, Lauren took one step too many and Kate let out a wail of anguish that almost immediately turned into a feral scream. Before Lauren even knew what was happening, her friend had transformed into the Chaser and had her pinned, knocking her camera away from them both as she began her final assault on Lauren. It all happened so fast. The Chaser’s shrieks echoed through the house, accompanied by the enraged screams of Charlie, flashes of sickly blue, incoherent shapes and figures, and pain… so much pain. Then there was darkness.

Lauren’s camera finally recovered from the terrible distortion and switched back on where it lay. The last bit of battery life it had left was used to capture a pair of still legs being dragged away, before abruptly turning to black.


	14. Made to Suffer

_ “The investigation of the massive forest fire that erupted near Oakside Park last week is still ongoing, and local law enforcement now says that the blaze appears to have claimed at least one victim. The body of longtime Oakside resident Carl Ross was found burned beyond recognition in the old Clear Lakes Communications radio station, which has been abandoned for several years following the buyout of Clear Lakes Communications by the company’s long-time rival “ECKVA Network”. Ross was found surrounded by empty cans of kerosene, leading police to initially believe that his death was a homicide. However, audio recovered from a charred camcorder revealed that his death was an assisted suicide. Local law enforcement deduced that Ross’s deteriorating mental state led him to take his own life, as evidenced by his medical records and the disturbing writing left on the walls of the radio station. It is highly speculated, but not known for certain, that Ross was the cause of the forest fire. Police are still trying to locate Ross’s accomplice, suspected to be twenty-three-year-old Katelyn Milens, who turned up missing when law enforcement went to her home, which was reported to have been in shambles. Also missing is twenty-six-year-old Lauren Boden, whose vehicle was found abandoned at the base of Milens’ driveway, less than a mile away from Ross’s also-abandoned vehicle. Both cars were towed away, and a fallen tree was removed from the driveway to make way for local law enforcement. It is unknown if Boden is an accomplice to this crime. If you have any information on either of these women, please contact local law enf…” _

“What the hell…” a woman mumbled as the broadcast was suddenly interrupted by a loud burst of static. “Come on… dammit…” she cursed, fiddling with the radio. This went on for a few minutes before she finally slammed her fist on the steering wheel in frustration. “Screw it,” she said. She turned her car off and stepped out into the morning air, her shoes sloshing in the muddy driveway as rain drizzled down from the overcast sky. Every so often a flash of lightning would light up the gray clouds, followed by the rumble of thunder echoing across the distant mountains. Diane Matheson looked up at the house in front of her, wondering what she’d ever done to deserve a police investigation preventing her from moving in.

She answered her own question as soon as she’d thought of it. Even after twenty-one years, the guilt of losing her only child clung to her like a terminal illness. Life was never the same after Charlie mysteriously vanished. She’d tried to hold out with her husband, Charles, for a while, even after the stress of Charlie’s disappearance caused her to miscarry their would-be second child, but once Charles started claiming to see Charlie and his imaginary friend “Mr. Slim”, Diane just couldn’t take it anymore and left him, leaving the town of Oakside and never returning… until now. She blamed herself for the death of Charles. She knew that things would’ve turned out differently if she’d stayed with him and worked through their problems. But instead, she’d walked away, and it was that final straw that caused him to take his own life, and she lived with that grim reminder every second of every day.

She thought that perhaps by living so close to where it happened, she would be able to learn to live with herself after what she’d done. The scorched husk of her old house was maybe a mile or two away from this new one, and she intended on revisiting that old place if she was ever able to move into her new home. Diane was seriously regretting buying the house from that Kate Milens girl. She mentally kicked herself for not realizing that its low price was too good to be true. She’d already moved everything out of her old apartment, but now that the police had the house under lockdown while they tried to track down its previous owner, she was homeless for the time being. Gritting her teeth in frustration, she glared at the familiar for-sale sign standing next to the brick wall; 

**FOR**

**SALE**

Please contact Kate at

555-7273

“You know what… fuck this,” Diane said, fed up with the constant torment she was forced to endure. Stepping over police tape, she pushed the front door open and entered the building.

The first thing she felt was shock at just how bad of a condition the place was in. Furniture overturned, eerie drawings on the walls, broken windows, and to top it all off, the entire place was dark and the light switches weren’t working. “Great, the first thing I have to do after moving in is pay to get all of this shit fixed,” Diane grumbled. As she tried to look around, she kept stumbling on objects strewn about the floor. Fortunately, she found a flashlight left behind by a police officer and flicked it on, illuminating the ransacked rooms. Suddenly, she felt a wave of uneasiness sweep over her, one that made her regret ever entering the house. “I’ll just take a quick look around the lower floors and be on my way,” she whispered. She didn’t find much other than destruction as she crept through the first floor of Kate’s house, but one thing stood out from everything else. In a side-room near the garage, an old radio sat atop a dresser. Without thinking, Diane turned the device on, wanting to calm her nerves with whatever backwoods song happened to be on the radio.

However, just like with her car, the only thing coming from the radio was strange frequencies and eerie static. Unable to take any more stress, Diane left the house through the garage door, heading towards her car that was parked just outside of the brick wall. “What were you thinking, Diane? Now the cops might find your fingerprints on that radio,” she thought to herself as she opened her passenger door. “I’ll have to ditch this thing in a river or something,” she said, putting the flashlight in her glovebox. Just as she was about to shut the door, she caught something out of the corner of her eye. At the end of the driveway, a yellowed sheet of paper was nailed to a tree on the border of the woods. Diane walked over to it, letting out a small gasp as she saw what it was;

**Missing**

Have You Seen This Child?

**Charlie Matheson Jr.**

If You Have Seen This Child

Please Contact 555 - 3799

She felt her eyes beginning to well up as she looked at the poster that she and Charles had made so long ago. She had no idea that any were left, as Charlie had been presumed dead for over a decade. As she stared at the picture of her son’s happy little face at the center of the poster, the tears began to flow. She had to bring the poster with her. She didn’t have many pictures of Charlie left. As she walked over to the poster and went to rip it off of the tree, an intense wave of nausea swept over her as soon as she touched the aged paper. Her nose spouted blood, and her body felt weak and cold. An intense, static-screeching noise filled her ears as her vision went dark and she hit the cold, muddy ground.

**(X)**

_ “I’m lost, can you find me?” _

The disembodied, childlike voice sent shivers up Diane’s spine as she crawled up onto her knees, blinking rapidly as her eyes tried to adjust to the darkness. She was in the front yard of her new house, facing the front door. She could barely even make out the outline of the brick wall behind her, or the swingset to her left, as everything was engulfed by a dark void. There was no wind, no birds chirping, not even the sky was visible. Everything was completely black, and a lowly drone permeated through the stale air, accompanied by an unearthly frequency that sporadically changed its pitch. Her wet clothes clung to her skin, making her body shake like a leaf, and she could see her breath in the freezing cold air of the abyss. “What the hell is this place?” she whimpered, tears beginning to well up in her fearful eyes. There was no response other than those haunting sounds that bore into her head. Suddenly, the front door opened, and a beam of brilliant golden light escaped from within the house, just bright enough to cut through the darkness a few feet in front of it. The joyful giggle of a small child echoed from within the house, sending goosebumps up Diane’s arms. Not because of how terrifying the situation was, but because that laugh sounded almost exactly like her son.

“Charlie… is that you sweetheart?” Diane called out. She received another giggle in response and saw a small silhouette walk by the door and into another room. “Charlie!” she shouted, rushing toward the house without any sign of rational thought. “Charlie, it’s mommy. I’m going to bring you home,” she called out as she stepped through the door. Instantly, the door slammed shut behind her, making her let out a small yelp of surprise. Nervously, she turned around and tried turning the doorknob. It was locked. Paranoia crept over her as she turned back around to face the staircase. “Charlie… are you there?” she said, a hint of fear in her voice. Again, a giggle rang out from within the house, but this time it sounded like it was coming from the room to her left. Diane made her way to the door and gripped the doorknob, forcing it open and stepping inside.

A wave of nausea abruptly crashed over her and her world went blank over the course of a millisecond. When she came to, she was not in the room she’d just entered. “What the hell just happened?” she wondered aloud, confused as to why she was now in the downstairs bathroom. She opened the door and stepped into the room with the radio, only to be instantly warped into another part of the house; this time a small guest room on the second floor. Growing more and more terrified, Diane kept trying doors for what felt like hours, being warped into rooms she’d already been taken to more often than not, and only winding up in a new one occasionally. Charlie’s giggles had stopped long ago, and the only sounds were her frantic breathing and the haunting ambiance of The Crawlspace. Then, just as she was about to collapse from exhaustion, she wound up in the master bedroom on the second floor. Staggering to the hallway door, she gripped the doorknob and attempted to turn it. To her horror, the door was locked, meaning she was trapped. Beginning to panic, she tried the door that led to the small bathroom, but that too was locked. That’s when she noticed that the light was growing dimmer. She cautiously turned around, only to jump back against the wall in horror as an ominous shadow rose from behind the bed and quickly engulfed the entire room, leaving Diane momentarily suspended in a black void before being teleported back outside to where she’d originally woken up. 

_ “I like you, I want to play a game.” _

This time, she recognized that voice as Charlie’s, but he sounded different. His voice was distorted… corrupted almost, all while still sounding like a child. “I don’t know who the hell is speaking to me, but you are not my son, you fucking demon!” Diane screamed back at it. She quickly got to her feet and sprinted away from the house, intending to make it back to that poster of Charlie and hopefully be transported out of whatever interdimensional hell she’d been taken to. However, as soon as she stepped beyond the gap in the brick wall, she was teleported back to where she’d previously stood, with that horrible, childlike voice proceeding to mock her;

_ “I only need you.” _

“Fuck you!” Diane screamed, quickly getting back on her feet and trying to run away for the second time, only to be met with the same result;

_ “I like it this way.” _

“Let me out of here!” She shouted back at it, on the verge of tears. Suddenly, she remembered that the gate in the backyard was wide open in the real world, so it should still be open in this place. She ran into the backyard and felt her heart skip a beat as she saw the gate beginning to swing shut. She sprinted toward it and managed to step through just before it closed and latched itself, but her efforts were in vain, as she was warped right in front of the front door, which had opened back up;

_ “I’m alone.” _

Practically hyperventilating at this point, Diane realized she had no choice but to face the monster that was taunting her with her son’s voice. For all she knew, this was the thing that had taken him away, and as much as she wanted to make it suffer for what it had done to her family, the only thing she felt anymore was mind-numbing fear. She took a shaky step into the house, and then another, and another until she was far enough inside that the door was able to slam shut behind her yet again, letting out an audible ‘click’ as it locked itself;

_ “I will find you instead.” _

“What?” Diane whimpered, unsure if she’d heard that correctly. Almost immediately, ghastly noises started ringing out from deep within the house. It sounded like deep, raspy breathing, accompanied by low growls and the occasional screech of something feral. There were no footsteps to pinpoint the source of the sound, but Diane wasn’t just going to sit there and wait for whatever was making those noises to find her. She rushed up the stairs and into a side bathroom, trying her best to remain quiet. She slowly shut the door behind her to avoid making noise and leaned up against it to prevent whatever was hunting her from entering the room. She slumped down to the ground and covered her ears, desperately trying to block out the horrid noises emanating from the first floor. They steadily grew louder and louder, getting to the point where they sounded like they were coming from right outside the door. Diane could barely control her breathing, and wouldn’t have been surprised if the creature outside could actually feel her quaking in fear. Then, as suddenly as they’d started, the noises stopped. All of them. Even the void’s strange ambiance was gone. 

Cautiously, she cracked open the door and peeked out, finding nothing. Whatever was chasing her had either gotten bored and left, or was just trying to lure her out of her safe haven. She didn’t like the idea of going back out in the open, but she had no choice, as the creature undoubtedly knew where she’d been hiding. She crept down the hall until she reached a small bedroom at its end. Noticing that the bedroom door was cracked, Diane pushed it open and was taken aback by how trashed the room was. It was in a far worse condition than the rest of the house, with papers covered in strange, cryptic drawings strewn about the floor and stapled to the walls. The window was shattered and the lamp on the desk was flickering. As she slowly processed her discovery, a faint sound like trees cracking rang out from behind her, making her blood run cold. Diane whipped around to see a tall, lanky, humanoid figure dressed in black standing right behind her. It’s head nearly touched the ceiling, and its unnaturally long arms nearly came down to its knees. She barely had time to let out a scream before the monstrosity reached out a pale, bony hand and latched onto her face. Just before she lost consciousness, she heard a deep, demonic voice rumbling in her mind;

**“I found you.”**

When Diane next awoke, her head was pounding and she found it hard to breathe. Unlike before when she’d felt nothing but freezing cold, she instead felt burning heat to the point that it was uncomfortable. She began coughing and tried opening her eyes, but was forced to squint against the bright orange light that surrounded her, as her eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. Black smoke made her eyes water, and she realized in horror that she was surrounded by a ring of fire. Trying not to panic, she started thinking up different scenarios in which she could attempt escape, but none of them ended in success. Just being in close proximity to the flames was making her skin blister, and she was quickly running out of air. Looking all around, Diane realized that she was in the backyard near that wooden playset, not that this information did her any good. Twisting and turning, she could find no possible way to escape the inferno around her, and thought for sure she was going to burn to death… but then she saw Him. The suited man that Charlie had talked about so much, the one that both she and her husband thought was just an imaginary friend; Mr. Slim.

The Tall Man stood near the playset, watching her with sick pleasure. She had a clear view of him now, and could fully see his pale, clammy, featureless face. The more she looked at him, the sicker she felt, and before long she was beginning to lose her balance. Then, The Slenderman disappeared and reappeared right in front of her in the blink of an eye, standing on the other side of the flaming ring. Diane hated everything about the monstrosity before her and found herself filled with burning rage as it looked down at her. “Burn in hell you psychotic bastard!” she growled, and spit at the creature. She never found out if she’d actually succeeded in hitting the monster, because she dropped to her knees right then and there, clutching her head as the worst migraine she’d ever felt tore through her system. Tears streamed from her eyes and she could only cry out in torment, all while an infuriated Slenderman watched her writhe on the ground. “Please… end this…” she choked out, unable to feel anything but pain anymore. Tilting its head, The Slenderman obliged, and Diane screamed in pure agony as the flames closed in on her, eating away at her flesh. In one last act of defiance, she glared into the face of her assailant, a memory of her son’s happy face flashing before her eyes. Just as her world finally went dark, she swore she heard the sad, distorted voice of Charlie speaking to her one last time; 

_ “You are dead” _


End file.
